Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
by Dhampir72
Summary: Hanna was shamelessly in love with the man who made him cappuccinos at the bookstore café where he worked. AU Hanna/ …
1. Sugar

**Title**: Sugar and Spice {and Everything Nice}

**Summary:** Hanna was shamelessly in love with the man who made him cappuccinos at the bookstore café where he worked. AU Hanna/{…}

**Rating**: M {for manloving}

**Content**: Obscene amounts of nosebleeding. Yeah, you know what that means: dirty stuff ahead FTW.

**Author's Note**: Because the request for Hanna/{…} AU smexing was too good to pass up. Plus awkward and sex-starved!Hanna is the best thing ever.

**pqpq**

Hanna was in love

Although he had only kissed a girl—on the cheek in like, fifth grade, and it was only that one time—and had no other experience with relationships or major crushes, Hanna knew that he was most definitely, undeniably, irrevocably in love. And it was with the guy who made cappuccinos at the café in the bookstore where he worked. It had been a casual first meeting, where Hanna didn't know him and he didn't know Hanna, even though they were employed in the same building in the same dreary city in the same boring state. And really, it all started with a simple order that was answered with a smile and Hanna just immediately _fell_.

Worst thing? He didn't even know the guy's _name_.

Hanna found the predicament awful and torturous and he would go home almost every night with desperation, not even knowing what name to call out when he was in the throes of sexual fantasy and orgasm. Not knowing added to the fact that his own hand just wasn't _cutting_ it anymore and everyday Hanna would find some excuse or another to go to the café, or shelve new books near the café, or really anything near the café, because that's where _he_ worked.

God, why didn't the man wear a name tag like everyone else?

"Who do you keep creeping on over there?" came a voice from the bottom of his ladder, breaking his concentration, which was currently focused on his dark-haired mystery man who was busy serving a few women coffee with that unbelievably _gorgeous_ smile that—"Hanna?" Hanna glanced down and saw his co-worker, Toni Ipres standing there. Her blue hair and lips contrasted with their red uniformed shirts, but not in a bad way, like Hanna's hair clashed with the company color. Speaking of that crimson shade, Hanna's cheeks definitely matched that color upon understanding her question, and he quickly looked over his shoulder at the café, desperately hoping that her voice hadn't carried. Nameless hot guy hadn't noticed, thank the gods.

"N-No one! I'm not, and, no, I mean, there just isn't anyone so, yeah," Hanna replied quickly, shoving a LSAT book onto the shelf.

"You're shitting me, right?" Toni said and put her hands on her hips as she glared up at him. "It's totally obvious that you're into someone."

"W-What? I'm not! No way," Hanna answered, his eyes glancing back over to the café, where his gold-eyed Adonis was then making several iced coffees for a group of high school girls. Hanna knew he was sick with love when he found that just watching that man use a blender was enough to make him aroused.

"You're a pathetic liar," Toni replied, and shook his ladder a little, making him scramble to hold on. "You're going to tell me on break, no exceptions." Her glare was hard and lingered for a moment before she dashed back to the children's department to rearrange toys and other models for the section. Hanna paused, thick guidebook in his hand, to look over at the café again, where his love was smiling at the girls in a way that made Hanna jealous. He shoved the volume a little roughly into the reference section, sending an evil glare towards the Aeropostale tweens as they skipped away, giggling while sending fervent, flirting glances back at Hanna's man.

Harlots, all of them.

**pqpq**

Hanna's nameless crush got hotter by the day.

The redhead reached the point where he was so flustered in this man's presence that he couldn't even form sentences when he went and got coffee on his breaks. Nice Eyes would smile at him and ask in that voice—that just made Hanna want to _touch himself_—"The usual, Hanna?" {He'd apparently learned Hanna's name by reading his name tag pinned to the front of his shirt, but no matter how hard Hanna looked, he saw no form of identification on the other man, leaving the redhead to wonder if he should steal his wallet just to get a peek at the driver's license.} Every day, Hanna tried to prepare himself for this, but the moment his name was said by that god-like creature, his brain shut off and he could only nod and try to smile despite the fact that his stomach was doing so many flips that he thought he might throw up at any second. Which would not be cool or impressive or, _damn_, it was so unfair how _hot_ he was in that apron.

And it was so hard to not get a boner thinking about how hot he would be wearing _only_ the apron.

**pqpq**

Hanna had to help close one night and actually ended up on register instead of stockroom like usual. He was in the process of counting bills to make sure everything balanced correctly—and was quite diligently doing so, too, for the record—when someone approached the counter. Stopping with the dollar amount in mind, Hanna glanced up and felt all the information he'd ever taken in _in his life_ disappear. It was Nice Eyes in the café's orange collared shirt and black tie—which only he could make look good, because orange was a hard color, kind of like red, which was the shade Hanna felt creeping into his cheeks, ears, and the back of his neck like crazy—only minus the apron. Instead, he was wearing a leather jacket that would definitely be playing into Hanna's fantasies that night.

"Hey," he said, and Hanna felt his legs shaking behind the counter. Hanna hoped that he couldn't hear his knees knocking against the lock box.

"Hey," Hanna replied, and actually sounded natural. His voice raised an octave higher, however, when he tried to add a casual: "What's up?"

"Nothing, just heading out," he answered, and placed a cup on the counter between them. It smelled like Hanna's usual order, with the hazelnut cream just how he liked it. "I made an extra one on accident and saw you closing, so I figured you could use it." Hanna mentally kicked himself, trying to make his lips—numb with _shock_—move to say _thank you_ or something that resembled an acknowledgment. After a moment where Hanna couldn't say anything and Nice Eyes had stood there looking fucking _delectable_, he just smiled at Hanna and said: "Yeah, so, have a good weekend." And with that, he turned around to head for the exit, leaving Hanna to stare after his nice ass in those _awesome jeans_ with so many things in his head, but without the ability to produce speech. He also forgot where he'd left off counting, which meant he had to do it again.

It's hard to count with a throbbing erection, just so everyone was clear on that.

**pqpq**

Hanna was on a mission to spy on Sexy McTightpants.

It was simple, really, because Hanna usually ended up in the general area of the café—no longer in manga and graphic novels because he got too distracted, so usually in the literature and reference section—which gave him a lot of opportunity to creep around. Basically his plan was to at least get the man's name. He used the old strategy that many people use when they don't know and don't want to ask that awkward question: they listen. Through reconnaissance, Hanna learned that his apron-clad love worked with three other people during the day: a blond girl named Tiffany or Brittany or something ordinary like that—she was pretty and tall and definitely competition for Hanna, so he did not like her one bit—as well as another girl named Vicky—who Hanna caught making out with her girlfriend Tamara in Young Adult Fiction two weeks ago—and then there was a punk kid named Veser, who was always late and never acted polite to anyone. One day, when Hanna went to get some coffee, Veser was the one who served him, and the redhead's order was definitely not the same as when Nice Eyes made it.

It was missing something, mainly its deliciousness, which only could be achieved by Sexy McTightpants' hands. Hanna had to wait until he got home to ponder what _other_ things those hands could achieve…

Anyway, the point was that Hanna was busy trying to sort Chinese texts into alphabetical order to shelve properly while listening to conversations over the wall in an attempt to learn his crush's name. Eventually he gave up on Chang and Tzu and everyone else in between in order to peek over the free standing shelves—having to stand on the very bottom row to boost his unremarkable height slightly—in order to blatantly watch his dark-haired interest with open want. At that moment, he happened to be sweeping the floor and cleaning up the tables while Veser made some sort of monstrosity of a drink for a young teenage boy with dreadlocks. Hanna thought he was being sneaky—and getting a good mental image to save for later of those great legs and amazing ass—but after several moments of unashamedly staring, Hottie McLonglegs turned around to clear off the nearest table and saw him. Hanna snapped to attention and hoped he hadn't been drooling on the Chinese dictionaries.

"Hey," he said in greeting.

"Hey," Hanna replied, because apparently that was all he could ever say to this gorgeous man.

"How was your weekend?" he asked and Hanna actually recovered quickly enough to reply.

"Not long enough," was the answer, although Hanna really had whiled away the hours hoping to go _back_ to work in order to see those _eyes_ again. But apparently it was the right thing to say, because McSteamy laughed: a low, rich chuckle that made Hanna grip the shelf to keep from falling over. Smiles and eyes and aprons were all awesome, but had nothing on that laugh. It kind of made Hanna want to _faint_ a little.

"I feel that," he answered, tossing the trash away that had been on the table. He stacked the trays on top of one another before he picked up his broom to begin sweeping up again. Hanna pretended to be really interested in the menu hanging from the ceiling to cover up the fact that his eyes were really focused on those hands, which the redhead thought about constantly _touching him in all the right places_.

"Er…did you work?" Hanna asked, trying to maintain the conversation so that he didn't seem like he was completely incompetent. Having a giant shelf between him and the man he adored helped things, because he could hide behind the protruding sign that said **Foreign Language Reference** whenever he felt like blushing. Or springing a boner, there was that too.

"Yeah. I pretty much wasted my Saturday and Sunday here," he answered with a shrug, "but it's money so I can't argue with that." Hanna just made a noise of agreement, but could not say anything else without sounding stupid, so he didn't. Light brown eyes glanced over at him in a way that made Hanna sink down a little further, embarrassed by the attention. "Didn't see you around here, though. Did you get the weekend off?"

"Yup," Hanna answered quickly, and hated how high his voice sounded. He kind of wished that he never would have started the conversation in the first place, because he was more awkward than most awkward thing since awkward came to awkwardtown.

"Do anything fun?" he asked, not seemingly bothered by Hanna's obvious inability to form words and sentences in the same pitch.

"Not really," Hanna replied and felt his ears turn hot when O'smexy smiled at him. He crouched behind the sign, so embarrassed by his bad mannerisms, but Nice Eyes laughed again and said:

"You're cute."

Hanna promptly fell backwards off the shelf in delight.

**pqpq**

Hanna had finally come to the concrete conclusion that Nice Eyes was just all around nice to look at, because there was absolutely nothing about him that Hanna did not find attractive.

Hanna was thinking this as he sat in the café one day—in the furthest table from the counter so he couldn't embarrass himself _again_—while drinking his coffee and reading _Blade of the Immortal _as a cover. Several feet away, his dark-haired and still-nameless crush was wiping down tables in area that was devoid of customers. Behind the counter, Veser was listening to his iPhone and texting rapidly, ignoring them on his break. Hanna, meanwhile, was trying to act natural and not skiddish like usual, because after he'd fallen off the Chinese reference section, his manager had banished him to Romance, which was just cruel irony.

Sexy McSexerson was pretty close and looked like he was about to engage Hanna in some conversation when a very familiar voice called to him:

"There you are," said Toni, and Hanna could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. Nice Eyes swept quickly by and Hanna felt his heart sink slightly as he left, replaced by Toni and her meaningful stare.

"Hey, what's up?" Hanna asked, watching as his love interest finished cleaning up and returned behind the counter. Come to think of it, the place wasn't that dirty to begin with. Had he come out sweeping just to maybe talk to Hanna...? His hopes lifted, but he was brought back to reality when Toni snapped her fingers in front of his face. "What?"

"You're completely zoning out," she said.

"Sorry," Hanna replied.

"_And_ you haven't told me what's got you so distracted," Toni added, looking a little sly. "Or should I say _who's_ got you so distracted." Her tone was conspiratorial, but her voice was too loud. Hanna tried to hide behind his comic because his face had turned red and he was sure that the topic of their conversation had just glanced their way.

"I-I-I told you that it's nothing, no one, really, _at all_," Hanna replied quickly.

"Why won't you tell me?" Toni whined, and then her eyes got a little wider as she glanced around them. There were very few employees in the area so when her gaze landed on the two men behind the counter, her mouth made the shape of an _o_. Quickly, she stood up and grabbed Hanna by the wrist, pulling him out of the cafe with such haste that he left his comic behind. When they were in Multimedia, Toni backed Hanna into a corner. "It's one of them, isn't it?"

"N-No—" Hanna stuttered, clutching at his coffee.

"Yes, yes, _yes_ it is!" she replied, and pointed her blue nail at him. "You've got a crush and I really hope it's on the tall one, because if you're not in love with him, _I'm_ asking him out." Hanna felt the blood drain from his face. Hanna versus Toni would be awful, because she was way more put together and smart and talented and nicer to look at than the redhead. Oh, then there was the whole her-being-a-girl-thing, which was what guys _usually_ wanted. The dejected sort of look that bled into his expression must have tipped her off, because Toni declared an official: "Aha! It _is_ him! Tell me _everything_."

"There's nothing to tell," Hanna answered, and the heat returned to his cheeks.

"How long?" Toni asked.

"Two months."

"Have you talked to him?"

"A little..."

"Do you think he likes you?"

"I don't know..."

"Did he make you that coffee?"

"Yeah…"

"Did he give you the 20% discount?"

The way Toni asked that question made it seem like it was relevant somehow. Hanna looked down at the cup and then thought about it for a moment.

"You mean they aren't free?" Hanna asked.

"Free?" Toni asked, and her eyebrows practically extended into her cerulean hairline.

"Yeah," Hanna answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, he told me that employees drink free so I thought…"

Toni looked like she might explode with excitement.

"Omigod," she breathed quietly instead. There had been too many instances where her loud voice had gotten the manager on her to be seen and not heard.

"What?" Hanna asked.

"He told you that coffee's free when it's not so that you would come back everyday to get some," Toni answered, and her eyes got a little shinier when she added: "How long has it been going on?"

"Um…about a month and a half…" Hanna said, leaning against the wall with his face burning in embarrassment.

"He's _totally_ into you!" Toni said in a whisper, jumping up and down a bit in her excitement. "He's been, like, courting you for that long and you haven't even _noticed_." Hanna's legs felt weak, because it all seemed too good to be true.

"What…what should I do?" Hanna asked, unable to comprehend this fact. Why would that man be interested in _Hanna_ of all people? He was short, wore glasses, had frizzy red hair and could not even keep a _conversation_ going without freaking out. Maybe it was all coincidence…

"You need to ask him out," Toni replied.

Hanna paled considerably.

"W-What?"

"Ask him out! You know, go up to him and—"

"But, Toni…"

"No _way_ you're getting out of this one!" Toni said, and jabbed him in the chest with her aquamarine-colored nail. "All you have to do is be casual about it and, I don't, ask him if he wants to hang out sometime. Go have coffee or something!"

"But Toni…" Hanna said again, and found himself picking nervously at the cardboard band around his coffee cup. "I don't…I don't even know his _name_…" Her expression turned skeptical.

"You mean in two months, you haven't even learned _that much_?" she asked.

"No…" Hanna answered, and dropped his eyes to stare at their feet. Toni just patted at his arm. When Hanna looked up again, he saw a very determined look on her face.

"I'll have it by the end of the day. Then, you'll ask him out," Toni said.

She was gone before Hanna could say another word.

**pqpq**

Lawl. That was awesome to write. Okay, but now here's the question, what can {…}'s name _be_? Tell me what you'd like to see? Because the fandom has brainwashed me, I really love Jayne (because everyone knows that Jayne Is Not A Boy's Name) but I'm up for anything, really…

**Dhampir72**


	2. Spice

Awesome response is awesome. Just for that, take some more of this and like it.

**pqpq**

Hanna could barely work for the rest of the day.

After Toni had scampered off to go do whatever it was she was going to do, Hanna checked his watch and found that his break was over. He resigned himself back to the Romance section and found a huge pile of boxes containing new titles to be added into their stock while the older stuff was to be pulled for the bargain bins. It was hard to compare ISBN numbers when his mind was just reeling with embarrassment and possibilities and overall intense anxiety. It didn't help that the majority of the people on the covers of the romance novels were in positions of passion, taunting him with the _maybe_s and _probably not_s that plagued him incessantly. He thought about having to spend more than ten minutes in the same place as his nameless crush and thought for sure that he would just die of embarrassment. In ten minutes, Hanna could ruin everything just by talking, or not being able to talk in the first place. Even if somehow the planets aligned correctly and the past twenty-four years of absolutely _no luck_ in _that_ department suddenly broke their unrelenting unlucky streak so that Hanna got Hottie McHothot to go out with him, he just knew he would fail. He was so full of it.

His manager just verified this when she walked by and found him nearly beating his head against the shelves in frustration, telling him to get back to work or else she'd fire him for sure.

**pqpq**

"I know something you don't know."

That was the taunt that came from the Young Adult section on the other side of the S-Z General Romance shelves in the last hour of his shift. Hanna couldn't see much except for a few wisps of blue hair, clarifying who it was with pure certainty. The redhead felt his hands shake as he put _Lusty Evenings_ on the shelf between _Tempting Glances_ and _Sensual Touches_ with the knowledge that she had probably gained more than enough information through her unknown means, which meant that he would have to hold up to his end of the agreement and…

"And…?" Hanna prompted quietly. Toni's eyes peeped over the shelf. Even though he couldn't see her mouth, Hanna knew she was grinning.

"His name is Alex Harper," she answered.

"Alex?" Hanna repeated. It felt strange to put a name to a face, but Hanna could see it: Alexander Harper. It kind of suited him in a quiet way that Hanna did not mind at all.

"Isn't it cute? You guys have girl names," she replied.

"Alex isn't only a girl's name," Hanna pointed out.

"Hanna is," Toni said.

"Leave me alone…" Hanna grumbled, frustrated with work and his own inability to be natural around people he liked and then there was all the pent up sexual tension that maybe was only on Hanna's end, but still very, _very much_ there…

{At least he had a name to call out at night now.}

"Don't you want to know more?" Toni asked, and Hanna stopped what he was doing, ready to hang on every word. She giggled quietly—evilly—because she probably knew that's what Hanna's silence meant, waiting a few moments so that Hanna had to dredge up a quiet:

"Dammit, Toni, tell me."

"Okay, so he's not from around here; somewhere further North of here, like the New England area, or something. According to my sources he's between 25 and 26 and was born in either September or October and went to OUL Phoenix for his undergrad in something-that-I-can't-remember, like English or Journalism or something with writing, I dunno and apparently he went abroad for two years after getting his undergrad to teach English in Japan—so I'm guessing he can speak more than English, which is pretty sweet, right?— and is looking for more steady work right now, but in the meantime works here, like the rest of us, to pay the bills and he also plays guitar and I was told that, no, his eyes really are that cool gold-ish color and _not_ contacts, _and_ he drives that green Subaru that's always parked out back, so he's probably a total hippie and recycles and shit like that, which is really cool, but I wonder if he's vegetarian—jeez, that would kind of be a waste," Toni replied, seemingly all in one breath. The vast amount of information was startling, to say the least.

"Shit, anything else? You sure you didn't get his social security number as well as home address in there somewhere too?" Hanna said, and although it sounded sarcastic and a bit biting, he actually took in all the information and felt…more inadequate than before. Not only was he older than Hanna by two years, but he'd been abroad and was probably way smarter and cooler and, _shit_, his name was Alex Harper and it was kind of nice to say, because it rolled off the tongue in a perfect mixture of syllables and sounds...

It made him think of Alex's tongue and where Hanna would like to have it, which made him shift rather uncomfortably back to reality when Toni started talking again.

"No, but if you want to, I can find out," Toni answered, and her tone was quite serious. Hanna wondered if her spare time consisted of stalking people.

"H-How the hell did you get all of that anyway?" Hanna asked, and—when he found that his manager was nowhere in sight—stepped onto the bottom shelf to look at Toni curiously between the book displays.

"Hey, I have my ways," she said, and she had a little smirk. "_And_ I got a date with the kid who works with your man."

"Veser?" Hanna clarified.

"Yup," Toni said, and she looked proud, even though Hanna made a face of disapproval at the pairing. She flicked his forehead. "Hey, your guy isn't the only one with nice eyes."

"Well the main question is: _is he interested_?" Hanna asked, rubbing the offended spot. His knees were shaking with anticipation and _hope_.

"Judging from all the evidence, yes," Toni said, "but I didn't get any outright information proving that he's gay or anything."

"Really?" Hanna asked, and he deflated somewhat. So much for romance...

"But think about it," Toni said, flicking him again, "I mean, he's obviously trying to tell you something with all the free coffee. Not to mention I got Veser to tell me specifically that your sex muffin told him that anytime you came to the cafe, anything you order is on him, which is just fucking cute." Tony pushed her blue bangs from her face as she leaned forward to add in a conspiratorial whisper: "Plus, he doesn't have a girlfriend and does not even seem remotely interested in Tiffany, who's practically Victoria's Secret up in here everyday with that rack."

"I dunno…" Hanna sighed, and felt miserable. He was intimidated by the man who was too damn sexy for his own good. And Hanna's health, that was for sure.

"My advice? Ask him out, but make it sound casual and fun so you don't scare him away in case he's _not_ interested. So, like, maybe not make it obvious that it's date-like but still keep it date-like, you know?" Toni said.

"No, I really don't know…" Hanna replied, not having any experience in this area.

"Just be yourself, Hanna," Toni told him, and smiled in her I'm-a-good-friend kind of way that made Hanna smile too.

"Thanks," he said.

"Oh, and by the way, his shoe size is impressive, and you know what they say about big feet—"

"_Toni!_"

That mental image fried Hanna's brain beyond the point of repair.

**pqpq**

Hanna's shift usually ended at nine, but because he had helped close for the past two weeks, he was graciously allowed to leave an hour early. Instead of running for the doors like usual, Hanna took his time in the break room and even tried to comb his hair so that he didn't look like so much of a slob. However, his hair would not lie flat and no matter what angle he looked at himself, his glasses were too huge and his teeth to big and every time he thought about Alex, his face got so red that just catching sight of his reflection made him want to hide. He began stalling even further—straightening his shirt, messing with the collar, readjusting his belt, etc—because he didn't want to ask, because he was too afraid to and that was all due to the fact that he _knew_ he was going to mess it up. There was no denying that he would fuck everything up beyond repair.

Still, Hanna had to try and mustered up all of his courage to do what he knew he could not. Pushing his shaking hands into his pockets, Hanna forced himself to walk by the café, where he saw Alex turning chairs over to put on top of the tables in order to make mopping easier. Hanna knew that no matter what the man did, he would find it attractive—using the blender was his personal favorite, as was stirring and drizzling chocolate over whipped cream and making pastries—but lifting things was just so... _hot_.

Alex was on one of the last tables when he spotted Hanna and smiled.

"Hey, Hanna. Leaving early?" he asked. Hanna dug his fingernails into his palms to try and stop his shaking.

"Y-Yeah," Hanna answered, glancing behind the counter to see that the area was empty. "Where's Veser?"

"He's got practice tonight with his band, so I told him I'd finish up," Alex said, and flipped over the last chair.

"That kind of sucks," Hanna replied, having some courage because there were a lot of chairs and tables between them, so if he wanted to blush, Alex probably wouldn't be able to see it.

"Nah, not really. He never cleans the machines right, so I always end up doing it anyway," Alex answered, and went back behind the counter. "Anyway, do you want something for the road before I close up?"

_I want you in my pants right now_, Hanna thought to himself, unable to walk closer to the counter as his mind raced with sinfully delightful images of that man on top of him, doing very dirty things with those delicious lips of his... Hanna swallowed and tried to push away the want from his thoughts that raced: _Please ravish me on the floor right here. Just completely have your way with me and that would be the best. Thing. Ever._

"Nah, I'm just gonna...go home so seeyoulaterbye," Hanna said in a rush, and fled. He literally ran out the doors and into the cool autumn night, cursing his weakness whenever he was within sight of those damningly amazing eyes and that smile and that apron and—

_Fuck_.

He ran across the parking lot under yellowing, flickering lights to hide in his piece of crap car, curling up on the seat of the Chrysler for warmth as he tried to coax the heater to life. The vinyl was cold and Hanna was shaking from nerves and the chill and his damned cowardice. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and closed his eyes as he breathed in and out. Only his thoughts would be keeping him company tonight.

And Hanna wanted to cry like the pussy he was with the prospect of becoming the twenty-five year old virgin.

**pqpq**

Hanna was having a bad day.

Usually when life decided to be an unfair bitch, everything began to suck in rapid succession. It started that morning, when Hanna was forced to take a cold shower because the hot water tank was acting up in his apartment complex again. That was the most torturous thing ever when it was already freezing outside and getting out of bed was hard enough with the season and the knowledge that he'd _fucked everything up_ with Alex Sexypants Harper. To add to this misery, he slept through his first alarm, so he was already late and then cold on top of it. Plus, he knocked over the unopened—and definitely feared—pile of bills that had been stacked up on the kitchen table. He did not even bother to pick them up, just as he hadn't bothered to open them. They all said the same thing: they wanted him to pay whatever his measly salary made in order to stay in his crappy apartment and drive his crappy car and continue with everything else crappy about his life.

When he got to his crappy job, it just got crappier, which was just _fucking peachy_.

The big boss was in, which meant that everything had to be done a certain way and so his managers—who were high strung and crazy enough as it was—were practically foaming at the mouth so that everything was done _perfectly_. Not only was that stress hanging over him, but the responsibility of helping with the large crowds that had gathered to attend a book signing that day. It was harder to maneuver around the store when people were rude and irritable to each other as well as the store employees. Hanna was thrown on register that day to help cover for several employees who had called in sick, so he had to smile at each person like his life didn't suck and he loved working there, while people squabbled about prices and discounts they were supposed to receive. A man swore at him in a very insulting manner and a woman actually got into it with him when he told her that she had misunderstood the price of the book she wanted to buy.

"You're obviously incompetent," she said in a snide tone as she brandished the hardback book at him. "Can't you read?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Ma'am," Hanna replied, in his nicest tone, though it was beginning to slip as his hands shook with repressed rage at the constant abuse. "However, I am perfectly capable of reading and I can assure you that the sign right there clearly says that the paperback is the price you're indicating, while the hardcover is $24.99."

"I don't need to listen to you. Get me your manager!" she said, before adding: "Unless you're not capable of doing even _that_." Hanna was used to dealing with mean people, but that day, he was at his wits end. He felt like quitting right there on the spot so that he never had to come back and deal with nasty people or his bitchy bosses or that good-looking man who he could _never_ get the guts to ask out... His throat felt hot and he wanted to cry, but he managed to get his supervisor to the counter to deal with the lady, muttering a low "Taking my break" to Toni before hurrying away.

He was still shaking by the time he reached Reference and was about to step into the cafe area when he noticed the large amount of people there, waiting to be served by the already short-staffed coffee shop. It was just Alex and Veser with Tiffany apparently just looking pretty and not really doing much of anything at all. Hanna swallowed and, when Alex came from behind the counter to serve a few orders to some tables, hurried to turn away, recalling the rest of his inabilities all too quickly. He escaped into the reference section where he found an empty leather chair in a quiet corner. Pulling himself into it, Hanna pushed his glasses into his hair and pressed his eyes against his knobby knees in shame and sadness and too many other things that he didn't want to think about. He counted and breathed and did everything he could to stop shaking and make all the bad feelings go away. It took a long while, but he did it.

At least he didn't cry, so there was that.

When he was finally feeling strong enough to not want to crawl into a hole and die, Hanna looked up and, on the table in front of him, found a surprise waiting. There was an extra large cup of coffee and a chocolate chip cookie tucked up in a napkin. Upon unwrapping it, Hanna found that it had been heated up so that the chocolate was gooey and perfect, like it had just come out of the oven. He breathed in the smell and felt some joy come back to him after taking a bite of the delicious treat. His lips quirked upward when he noticed that there was a message for him as well. Written in pen on the cardboard grip of the coffee cup was the simple word:

_Smile_.

Peaking into the cup, Hanna noticed that in the foam of his coffee, there was the artistic shape of a Stegosaurus. Hanna looked at it and smiled, before laughing quietly to himself. So it had been a bad day and everything sucked, but then there was a hot cookie and a dinosaur in his coffee and a message that said _smile_ and it was all _just for him_.

And Hanna was in love more than ever.

**pqpq**

Somehow, Hanna lasted through the day.

He figured it was the cookie and the extra shot of the caffeine-shaped Omnivore in his drink that did it. He was able to smile at horrendous people and _not_ tell them to stick it where the sun didn't shine because there was a man across the store who he really thought he might have a chance with...Because of that, at the end of the day, Hanna found himself at the cafe where, once again, it was just him and Alex and low lights and nice AIR music playing over the speakers with the smell of coffee and cream and chocolate. But then Hanna felt the nerves coming back full force when Alex saw him and paused in cleaning out the cappuccino machine for a moment to greet him with those eyes and that smile that Hanna wanted to be for him and only him.

"Hey, busy day, huh?"

"Yeah..." Hanna said, feeling his heart hammering quite loudly in his chest. "T-Thanks for earlier, by the way..."

"No problem. You looked kind of down," he replied. "I hoped that it helped."

"Some customers were being pretty rude," Hanna answered and looked down at his feet in embarrassment. "I had a bad morning too so it was just...sucking a lot...Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, because it really cheered me up. The dinosaur was an awesome touch."

"I'm glad that you liked it," he said.

"I did..." the redhead said quietly—while thinking _I'd like anything you did to me—_and wondering if his courage would run out, leaving him to dash for the doors again. "Er, so it was busy here too, huh?"

"Really busy," he said, and went back to his cleaning, but continued the conversation, too, adding: "At least we get to go home now."

"Yeah," Hanna said lamely, because he didn't have anything else to say. He wanted to ask, but couldn't find a way without making it sound awkward and—how did Toni put it?—too "date-like date-like".

"So any plans this fine evening?" he asked.

"No, I'm just...probably going home like usual," Hanna replied. "You?"

"Same," Alex said, and removed the shake mixers and other glasses, which he put down below. Hanna watched as he crouched down and disappeared behind the counter, listening as the items were set down gently in their places. The redhead thought about it for a moment and realized that it was his chance. It was his one swing, his golden ticket to Willy Wonka's fucking chocolate factory and his chance to ride in the Goodyear fucking blimp and the green light to every other amazing opportunity on the planet.

He could not, under _any_ circumstances, fuck up such a chance.

"Well, hey, I mean, you know because you're here and there's me, it's dark out and work is stuff so yeah," Hanna said, all in a jumbled, messy rush. It took him a moment to realize that it didn't make a fucking _lick _of sense. A cold feeling rushed over him when he came to conclusion that he had utterly failed and Hanna pondered suicide right then and there.

Seppuku sounded nice. Maybe he could die with some sort of honor.

"What was that?" Alex asked, and peeked at Hanna over the edge of the counter with those damningly naturally gold eyes of his. He was probably very confused as to why Hanna had all of a sudden started speaking in tongues. Hanna himself was wondering the same thing.

"Er, I, I mean, that is, tonight, and me, with you and—" Hanna tried again, meanwhile thinking _Oh, fuckmylife, fuckmylife, fuckmylife_ over and over again in his head. "Never mind. I'm just going tokillmyself...uh, I mean, leave...so, yeah..."

He was about to turn and run away when he heard the cabinet door close and Alex stand up to say:

"Well, if you want to wait a minute, I'll walk out with you."

"Huh?" Hanna said intelligently, his heart hammering so loudly in his ears that he thought he might have misunderstood. Alex gave him a smile that rendered him completely dumb and incapable of moving from his spot, so Hanna stood there as that very fine man removed his apron and shut all the lights and music down for the night. When he came from behind the counter, Hanna was shaking so badly at the sight of Alex just putting on his leather jacket that he wondered if he'd be able to walk.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah..." Hanna answered, and his voice almost gave out, along with his knees, but there must have been a half-miracle working for him, because he actually managed to walk with Alex in a side-by-side-but-not-too-close-to-be-creepy-and-not-too-far-to-be-awkward sort of way that was just _awesome_ and scary and thrilling and—_holy shit he was walking with a sex god._ When they were close to the main exit, Hanna caught sight of Toni counting bills at the register—with Veser actually leaning against the counter in front of her, where they had been engaged in some sort of conversation that made Toni _smile_ in a nice, girly sort of way—and when they walked by, Hanna saw that her eyes landed on them before her grin just exploded into extreme overdrive.

"Good night~!" she called and Veser gave a little half-wave like he really didn't give a shit, as usual, but Hanna didn't mind, and actually managed to _not_ walk into the security tower by the exit, which was pretty good on his part.

"So that's Toni, right?" Alex said, when they stepped outside into the cold evening air. Hanna zipped up the front of his hoodie for warmth, glad that his hands had something to do without looking awkward and too big when they swung from his sides.

"Yeah," Hanna replied, and once he was done fiddling with his coat, licked his cold lips and kept his gaze downwards on the asphalt of the parking lot. It was like shiny ink in the limited lights of the closing shopping center.

"She's nice. Veser seems to like her, too," he commented.

"Yeah," Hanna said, and writhed around screaming in his head, berating himself like a lunatic with the repeated question _Can't you say anything else, you fucking dumb shit?_

"Hey, it's starting to snow," Alex said, and his orange Vans stopped, so Hanna stopped walking too. He felt a few flakes in his hair and against the bare skin on the back of his neck; watched as they fell onto the ground and melted away, like all the courage Hanna had thought he'd attained, only to have it completely dissolve into nothing but shaking and lame _Yeah_s that were going to completely _ruin_ him—"Hanna?"

"Yeah?" Hanna asked, and looked up. It was the biggest mistake of his life. If he'd thought Alex was god-like before, throw him into some snow with non-florescent lights under the moon and he was like the pinnacle of absolute fucking perfection. Inadequacy crept into Hanna's thoughts like a virus and gnawed away at him like a parasite.

He was _way_ out of Hanna's league.

"Are you okay?" Alex inquired.

"M'fine," Hanna replied, feeling miserable and so much like a loser that he just wanted to quit at life.

"You don't seem like it," he said, and Hanna swallowed, realizing that they were very close. He could see the crystalline droplets of moisture left behind by snowflakes upon his lashes.

"I am," Hanna answered, and added, a bit thickly, but earnestly: "Really."

"You're not yourself, I can tell," was the response, and Hanna felt the return of that hammering heartbeat, like he'd just run a mile and a half. The heat began creeping into his face, but Hanna prayed to the gods that Alex couldn't see it in the dark. It startled and pleased him to the point of near cardiac arrest that he'd been watching Hanna as much as Hanna had been watching him to know enough about his personality to tell when something was different. His hope blossomed and his palms felt sweaty and all of a sudden he just felt like bolting to his car and driving away at 75 miles an hour because he was a fit of nerves and anxiety and, _God_, Alex was getting so close that Hanna could _smell_ his cool aftershave beneath the lingering scents of hazelnut and coffee and chocolate and caramel, which was all so _fucking_ delicious that Hanna's mind fizzled off the grid of sanity.

"Mm'fineyeah," Hanna replied quickly, unable to run away or breathe or do anything but stare into those amber eyes that held him, captivated and unblinking in their depths.

"I've got a question, then," he said. "What did you want to say earlier?"

"What?" Hanna managed to ask, even though his mouth felt like he was trying to speak around gravel.

"Earlier this week," Alex elaborated, "and just now. You wanted to say something, but you didn't."

"Uh, I dunnowhatyou'retalkingabout," Hanna answered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Positive?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't want to say anything at all?"

"Nope."

"Hanna."

Just the way he said it made him realize how fucking _transparent_ he was.

"Err...I...that's, um..." Hanna fumbled, before squeezing his eyes shut and just going for it, not even caring if he sounded like a desperately pathetic-and completely _enamored_-idiot. "Do you want to have coffee sometime?"

His voice echoed in the parking lot, fueling his blush that Hanna felt creeping from his cheeks to his ears and neck. The snow kept falling and traffic continued to move on the street beyond the shopping center and everything was just as it had been, even though Hanna had _finally_ made the leap and done it without any communication error whatsoever. He'd thrown his heart and emotions and every fucking thing out into the open and now it was just that turbulent few moments in time, where it was waiting and hoping and praying that the answer was—

"Sure."

Hanna managed to open his eyes to stare in absolute confusion. That did not sound like the response of denial.

"W-What?"

"I said sure," Alex said, and his smile was even more amazing up close. It left Hanna almost panting for breath.

"R-Really?" the redhead asked. "I mean, like coffee, with _me_?"

"Well, you did invite me, so I'd hope you would be there," he said.

"So, as in, I would be there and you would be there and there would be coffee and we would be there together," Hanna elaborated unnecessary, but then added hastily, waving his hands in front of himself: "I-I-I mean we don't have to _go_ together, _go_ together, like, we could take two different cars and, if you want to, even sit at two different tables or whatever and—"

"Hanna."

He stopped his rambling immediately, silenced by the sound of his name and their proximity and the specks of citrine in _those_ eyes.

"...yeah...?" Hanna asked, voice quiet with apprehension.

"Friday night at Perry's on Court Street," he said. "Sound good?"

Hanna just _beamed_.

"I'll take that as a yes," Alex said, when Hanna couldn't respond. Then he smiled in the way that left Hanna breathless, only adding to that infatuated state when the redhead felt the lightest brush of Alex's fingers in his hair. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Y-Yeah..." Hanna replied, watching dazedly as the other man straightened and continued on the previous course towards his car.

"Good night," he said and Hanna nodded, watching as he got into his Subaru, turned on the headlights, and then reversed out of the space before driving away. When he was out of sight, Hanna could finally breathe.

"FUCK YES!" he shouted out loud, unable to contain his enthusiasm. He jumped up and down a few times before the condensation on the slick ground and gravity all worked in tangent to _fuck_ him over—"Shi—!"

"Hanna! Are you okay?"

Hanna had fallen backwards and found himself lying on the cold, wet ground, staring up at the yellow street lamps and the lightly falling snow with the biggest grin on his face. A few chunks of blue hair and then a concerned expression came into view, focusing eventually as Toni, whom Hanna just smiled up at with pure euphoria.

"Oh my God, what happened?" she asked, kneeling down beside him. "I saw you fall down!"

"I did it, Toni," he answered.

"Did what?" Toni asked. "Shit, did you hit your head? Are you okay?"

"Toni, I asked him out like you said," Hanna told her.

"Holy shit—and?" Toni asked, suddenly not worrying at all about Hanna's possible concussion.

"He said _yes_!" Hanna breathed out, in the most lovesick of manners.

"That is _so_ cute," Toni cooed, holding her hands to her chest in that typical girlish way. Veser came into view over Toni's shoulder with a scowl.

"That's so _gay_."

Even Veser's unpleasant personality—which had to be made up for in bed, because there was no reason why any woman could ever like him and his rudeness—couldn't dampen Hanna's spirits. Although his body was cold and his head ached when he sat up from the pavement in the parking lot, Hanna could not keep the smile from his lips. He'd somehow been successful and managed to get his first date _ever_, with the most attractive man he'd met _ever_, who made the best coffee and foam dinosaurs on the _planet. _It was the most amazing end to any day in Hanna's life, until Toni uttered those seven terrible words:

"Hanna, what are you going to wear?"

**pqpq**

A/N: Hanna, the answer is "Nothing at all" because you and McDreamy are going to have amazing sex. Eventually.

A few things concerning {...}'s name.

There were a lot of people voting for Jayne (which is an amazing name) but I opted not to use it because it's reserved specially for the punk!verse and I did not want to create any confusion there.

A few others were leaning towards Taylor, based on the song Taylor, The Latte Boy by Kristin Chenoweth (which is hilarious and amazing) but my ex-boyfriend's name is Taylor and he was a so I could not use the name because of my own personal demons.

Some wanted me to keep it a guessing game, but, fuck guys, it's hard coming up with all sorts of sexy names for un!Zombie as it is. I'll make up for it in porn, I promise.

In the end, I chose a combination of the names of the two boys I had always secretly LOVED throughout my life but could never get up the balls to ask them to go out with me (because I'm a fucking spazz and fall down and make stupid, jumbling mistakes all the time). So there you have it: Alexander Harper. I think it's sexy, but take it as you will. It really doesn't matter in the end, because they're going to have awesome hot times whether his name was Dotdotdot, Ellipses, Zombie, Jayne, Taylor (-shudders-), or Alexander or whatever else. Because porn trumps everything.

With those words of wisdom, good night.

**Dhampir72**


	3. Kisses

**A/N:** Hanna/{…} makes my life. And you all are fantastic as well. Just for that, long update is long. Like 11,000+ words long. Enjoy :3

**pqpq**

Hanna was an idiot.

He realized that fact later in the evening, when he replayed the events over in his mind beneath his fort of pillows and blankets. Of course, it had started out nice: recalling Alex's eyes and hair and lips and smell and every other amazingly sexy thing about him, but just as Hanna's fingers were wandering towards the zipper of his jeans, he recalled his proposal and stopped immediately.

He had asked a man—who made coffee for eight to ten hours a day—to go have _coffee_ with him.

In trying to make it sound not-like-a-date-but-actually-really-a-date, Hanna had forgotten that Alex spent his fucking _life_ making beverages for other people so he was probably sick of coffee and most likely couldn't even stomach to drink it anymore and Hanna was such a _fucking_ idiot that he could barely stand thinking about it. Frustrated with his stupidity, Hanna wrenched his hand away from himself in annoyance, got into a loose shirt and boxers, shut off the light, and crawled into bed.

He was such a fucking idiot.

**pqpq**

Friday came quickly and work passed with amazing speed so that it was suddenly 8:30 and Hanna found himself on his first official date, which he was surprised was actually going _well_.

Their meeting that night—which really was date-like, date-like after all—was very nice to start with, as Alex Nice Eyes Harper was just looking delicious as always with that half-shaven, down to earth sort of charming smile and his collared shirt with the first few buttons undone all sexy-like and awesome. They ended up in the back corner of Perry's, one of the million generic yuppie coffee shops in town with brightly colored furniture and walls, but low lights from candles that made everything a little more intimate and warm so that time passed at the perfect pace. Their conversation was interesting and the coffee was good—and Alex actually drank it, which made it even better so that Hanna did not feel like such a douche—and no one really seemed to care that two dudes were sharing a booth and were sitting next to one another like the other hetero-couples in the room. Beneath the table, Alex's knee was against his as if testing the waters and his elbow brushed against Hanna's once or twice like _Jesus H. Christ_ Hanna couldn't even think because that man was so _hot_. It must have been the caffeine in combination with Toni's prep-talk and the last minute Journey to the Center of Hanna Falk's Closet to find the Most Amazingly Perfect Shirt and Pants Combination Ever that led Hanna to get somewhat daring. It was casual at first, letting his leg lightly fall against his and Alex didn't seem to mind and they were talking about something that Hanna knew about—what that was, he had no idea because those eyes were like _whoa _and so fucking sue him if he was on autopilot at that point—so he didn't stutter too badly, even when Alex's fingers brushed through his hair lightly in a gesture that spoke in volumes much louder than in the parking lot. Hanna was okay with it and they were side by side and _Alone in Kyoto_ was playing over the speakers so it was just so right and perfect and Hanna's heart was racing with anticipation as Alex got closer and—

They _kissed_.

Hanna had never kissed someone before, on the lips anyway, but everything that everyone had ever said about it _paled_ in comparison to what he experienced in that moment. His mind blanked, leaving his body to tell him how to feel, and it definitely reacted in the right sort of way to the lips against his and tongue that tasted like coffee and vanilla cream and, _man_, that must have been what it felt like to make out with a member of the Greek Pantheon. Arms enveloped him in warmth and then _heat _and it left Hanna wanting with that ache he had experienced before, which had remained long after his hand could not bring the release he needed.

And it was kind of skanky, but the next thing Hanna knew, they had abandoned their coffee and the café so that they could be alone. Hanna was so intoxicated by the kissing that he didn't even realize they were in the back of Alex's Subaru until they were all over each other in a jumbled mess of hands and tongues and _oh God_, Hanna wanted it and had been wanting it so badly and, yes, even if he put out on the first date, call him a slut but he really, really _fucking wanted it_. Because of that, Hanna was really getting into the moment—like in all those pornos, though he would never, _ever_ admit to watching one—when he straddled the taller man, pushing up his shirt to reveal the most perfect chest and abs and that little patch of fine hair that went _down there_ and—

Hanna was harder than ever.

"Please, _please_..." Hanna could only get out, and in a whispered, ragged breaths as Alex kissed his way down the redhead's throat, nipping and then sucking at the skin with skill that made him want to just _cum_. He panted with need as Alex moved his hot palms beneath Hanna's thermal, slipping under the belt teasingly, but not giving in the slightest and Hanna _whined—_actually _whined—_at the unfairness of it all.

"You should be more patient, Hanna," he said, and it was teasing as his lips brushed against Hanna's skin, making him tremble with want.

"C-Can't..." Hanna replied, breathless, grasping onto Alex's hand to coax it downward along his stomach and over the front of his pants. The heat and pressure of that palm against him made Hanna's hips buck and his back arch and—

_Holy shi—_

Hanna shot up in bed, drenched and shaking and _sticky_. Fumbling quickly with the light, he turned it on before shoving his glasses onto his nose. His small, messy room came into focus: muted television, half-open dresser drawers, and the comics stacked up in precarious piles on every surface. No sexy man anywhere, even when Hanna leaned over slightly to see if maybe he was hiding in the bathroom. Nothing at all.

Just Hanna and a vividly good dream and a _very_ damp pair of boxers.

"Well..._fuck_..."

**pqpq**

Hanna did not know if he wanted time to move faster or slower.

It seemed like he was stuck somewhere in the middle at average-to-usual passing of time, which made working suck more than usual. Friday was only a day away, but it felt like a million years. Each second made Hanna feel older, while across the store, Alex kept getting hotter. It just made his anxiety build up at a faster, more uncomfortable rate. Even though Hanna had managed to get him to say yes, there was nothing that said the evening was going to go well. Getting that man to _stay_ at a table with him and _talk_ about something—oh, _God_, what could they talk about?—and not _fuck up_ would be like telling Hanna to go stop a huge asteroid coming to Earth with his _bare hands_. Yeah, sure, it sort of, in some way, worked for Bruce Willis, but it was Bruce Willis and he was just Hanna Cross and that asteroid happened to be a giant metaphor for Alex Harper, who—did Hanna mention—was progressively becoming more attractive as the moments ticked by?

"It's so cute that you're in love," Toni told him, that afternoon on their lunch hour. They were up on the second floor at one of the low glass tables like usual, eating their packed lunches and drinking warm Coke they had stolen from the broken vending machine in the break room. From their position, Hanna had a perfect view of the café, so that he could creep without being too obvious. Alex was out taking care of the tables again and Hanna longingly thought of his dream when he spotted that fine ass in those jeans that Hanna just thought about _ripping off him_ one day. "Either that or you're just really horny."

"W-What!" Hanna cried out, his face beet red at the insinuation. A few customers nearby stopped to look at him, so he slid down in his seat to be more discreet. He added in a hushed whisper: "Shut up. I'm _not_ horny."

"Oh, _damn_, you're _so_ horny," Toni replied, and then laughed at Hanna's miserable face. "It's still cute though, really."

"Toni, you're really embarrassing the crap out of me right now," Hanna said.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about you, I could talk about me," she offered, and scooped out the last bit of her yogurt before adding: "So, last night in the parking lot, after you left, I gave Veser head and—"

"WHOA! WHOA!" Hanna said, stopping that train immediately with his hands held out in front of himself. "I did NOT want that mental picture in my mind."

"Hanna, it's just a blowjob, get over it," Toni said, looking proud of herself. "You should have seen his face, too, because apparently my lipstick rubbed off and—"

"Still too much information, Toni," Hanna replied, chagrined beyond all reason and very uncomfortable at all the images that followed. He was completely grossed out by Toni and Veser—and the disgust was so great that it could not even be measured by human means—but the thought of doing that sort of dirty thing with Alex in the back of his car or something was actually kind of...arousing. Hanna swallowed and pulled at the collar of his uniform, feeling slightly overheated. Toni watched him in an amused way, but she was half-way through unwrapping her granola bar when she stopped and looked at him, as if with sudden realization.

"You've never given head before," she said, and before Hanna could make up some excuse {lie}, she grinned and leaned across the table to point directly in his face. "Hanna Falk Cross has never sucked a dude's dick before. Holy _crap!_"

"_Toni—_" Hanna gasped, and tried to hush her, but she was on a roll.

"And you call yourself gay—"

"_Toni!_"

"Oh my _God_, are you still in the V Club?" Toni asked, and she was serious instead of teasing. Hanna bit his lip and took his sweet time rolling up the saran wrap from his sandwich into a perfect ball to stall for time.

"Jeez, Toni…Don't fucking broadcast it, okay?" he finally answered.

"You poor thing, you must be even hornier than I thought," she said, and his flush returned full force. She smiled at him and tapped his cheek like a mother. "Don't worry, honey. I'm coming over after work tonight and gonna get you ready for tomorrow. I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Hanna could only blush and look away, because Intro to Dating and Fucking 101 with Toni Ipres would be the most awkward thing ever.

**pqpq**

During his break later that day, Hanna fled from Romance.

Between Toni's knowing glances at him and the constant reminders to himself to _not_ look longingly at the café, Hanna found himself struggling to be normal so that he didn't lose his mind any more than usual. That was really hard to do with all those euphoric faces upon the cover of every single novel. It was taunting and irritating and Hanna hated it, so during his fifteen minutes of freedom, Hanna chose to go to get some coffee, which was actually one of the most stressful thing to do when that dreamy man was—

Not there?

Hanna stopped at the counter and looked one way, then the other. The place was deserted and the cappuccino machines hummed as if bored that they were not in use. It smelled like Tazo and Italian cream, which were both very nice, but not if that scent wasn't on Alex, who was still very mysteriously absent. It sent knots forming in his stomach, which only intensified when Veser appeared. The mental image of Toni sucking his cock made Hanna feel sick, but if Toni liked him, then he could try to at least be civil...

"Hey, Faggot, what's up?" Veser greeted him.

So much for civility.

"Why're you looking so clueless? It's not like Xander's here to make you all gooey or whatever, so what's your problem? Or do you always look so stupid?" Veser asked. Hanna couldn't even form words at the rudeness.

Or the fact that Veser called Alex _Xander_, which was almost as hot as _Alex_, but with a more bad-boy-I-ride-a-motorcycle-and-wear-leather-and-smoke-tobacco kind of way.

"Hello? Earth to the guy with the chick's name?" Veser said, whistling to get Hanna out of his thoughts. The redhead wasn't sure what to think about the green-eyed punk across from him: he was such an utter asshole, but Hanna had never seen Toni _smile_ like she had when talking with him the other night. Maybe the laws of the universe would never, ever be solved, and Hanna took that as the best answer to the situation, resolving that if they were to ever—Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, hopefully _never—_get married, he would not go to the wedding unless there was an open bar.

And a king sized bed at the hotel for him and Alex, who he'd like to call Xander sometime, because it made things kinkier somehow.

"I'm sorry, maybe you're retarded?" Veser said, leaning closer to Hanna, as if trying to see past his mental incapability. Hanna dropped his eyes to the floor, wanting to turn around and leave, but feeling too weak to do so. He knew that he shouldn't let Veser push him around like that, but he didn't want to ruin things for Toni and he certainly didn't want to make Alex's work environment stressful. Veser took this as an act of submission and continued: "Should I speak slower for you, Princess, or are all the rainbows blocking your ears you—_owmotherfuckingow!_"

Hanna looked up and saw the reason for Veser's sudden pain, unable to help the grin that quirked at his lips. Sometime during their conversation, Alex had appeared, broom in hand, and had taught Veser a quick lesson by apparently aiming for the back of the knees. Veser weakly clung to the counter with an expression of anguish.

"The _fuck_ man?" he whimpered.

"Didn't we have a discussion once? You know, the whole, if you don't have something nice to say, shut the fuck up, conversation?" Alex said, and it was in the usual nice tone that he used when greeting Hanna. He even smiled the same way, but the redhead could see that it was slightly strained. Hanna wondered how much he'd overheard.

"You're crazy," Veser muttered, pushing himself up. "You can't just go hitting people whenever you want."

"On the contrary, I'm quit sane," Alex answered, and nudged him with the broom to move over. Veser practically jumped out of his skin to get out of the way. "Also, I can hit you whenever I want when you're acting like an asshat. And be glad I didn't break both of your kneecaps. Four years of Kendo training taught me _restraint_." He was so calm and cool and _awesome_ that Hanna felt like Alex was a knight coming to his rescue, like Sir Galahad or some shit like that. And he did Kendo, which was just...sexy, in a very samurai sort of way.

"Crazy," Veser muttered and began to limp away, but Alex paused halfway in creating Hanna's usual cup of coffee to make him stop dead in his tracks with a simple question:

"Don't you have something to say?"

"I ain't got _nothing_ to say," Veser answered, and crossed his arms.

"_Really_?" Alex said, and there was something like a challenge in his voice. Hanna watched the exchange without knowing what was happening, and even more so when Veser turned to him and looked directly into his eyes. The redhead was surprised that he actually looked _apologetic_.

"Sorry, man," Veser said quietly to Hanna, before turning to walk into the back room.

Hanna stood there in stunned silence, jerking slightly when he heard the door beyond slam loudly.

"Sorry about that," Alex said.

"About what?" Hanna asked, blinking in confusion.

"For Veser," Alex replied simply, and returned to making Hanna's coffee. "He's got a bad mouth on him."

"It's okay. I'm used to it," Hanna said, feeling a sensation besides his usual embarrassment when Alex looked at him. There was something quietly concerned in his expression; a subtle furrow to his brow that plainly said _I wish you didn't have to_. His words were only slightly different when spoken.

"You shouldn't be," he said, and glanced back towards the closed door, as if to make sure that the rebellious teen was not still lurking there. "But thanks for not rising to it. Veser...kind of has problems."

Hanna paled and thought of Toni.

"N-Nothing _bad_, right? Like, dangerous or anything," Hanna said, not wanting his friend to get mixed up with some unbalanced guy who might…Hanna swallowed and didn't want to even imagine it.

"No, it's nothing like that. Just some...problems at home," Alex answered vaguely as he fiddled with a small stirring rod for a moment. But after a second, he looked up at Hanna and smiled slightly, as if he had some sort of telepathic mind power and understood what the redhead was thinking. "And I mean that really, so Toni will be alright. Besides, she seems to be good for him."

"How...did you..." Hanna said weakly, hoping he wasn't so transparent.

"Didn't you know? I'm a Jedi," said Alex, and his voice was so serious that Hanna almost believed him.

Almost, because Jedi-SexyMcTightPants Harper would be _awesome_.

"I'm pretty see-through, huh?" Hanna replied, damning himself and wishing that for _once_ he could just be cool and not suck at everything.

"Sometimes, but not in a bad way," Alex answered, and passed the coffee over to Hanna. "So is 8:30 on Friday okay?"

Hanna nearly had a spazz attack.

"Y-Yeah, that's, yeah, cool, because 8:30's a good...time..." Hanna finished lamely. His brain had ceased to function as it realized that Friday was very close, as well as Alex, who he would be very close to on Friday—which, he kept telling himself was _tomorrow_ in case he somehow had overlooked this fact—and hopefully a lot closer thereafter...The images of his dream came to him in tangent with the tidbit of Toni's sexcapade from earlier: it manifested itself into a scene where he and Alex were just making out in the parking lot against the back of Hanna's Sundance and then there was just touching and Alex was on his knees and _holy hellbiscuits_ it was very hot.

"That's good," he said, and tilted his head slightly to look at something behind Hanna. "Um, there's an angry blond woman trying to get your attention."

"Oh _shit_," Hanna grumbled, torn out of his fantasy all too quickly. Angry and blond always equaled _manager_ in his mind, and Heather could be a real _bitch_ when she wanted to be, which was pretty much 24/7. After catching him failing so many times, Hanna feared that his days were numbered, so he asked pitifully: "Can I hide?"

"I'd say yes, but she saw you already," Alex pointed out, and his small smile told Hanna that he seriously would have helped him hide if the situation had been any different. That in itself constituted as the nicest gesture, but unfortunately, that didn't make Hanna's predicament any better.

"Fuck," Hanna muttered and straightened up. "Well, thanks for the coffee. I'm gonna need it after she's done ripping me apart."

"When she's yelling at you, just think about her looking like that," Alex said, and pointed into the bit of foam, where he had made the shape of a—

"Is that a _Velociraptor_?" Hanna asked and then laughed, despite the impending doom waiting behind him. He had an official date for Friday night with Xander Hotpants Harper _and_ was the proud owner of a cup of coffee with one of the most vicious man-eating dinosaurs that had ever existed, made of delicious cream, of course, and maybe love, which was just out to make Hanna grin like an idiot.

It didn't get much better than that.

**pqpq**

Life fucking _sucked_.

It was Hanna's first date in his _entire life_ and Heather, his Velociraptor bitch of a manager—which actually was a pretty good description of her—made him close on Friday night. She said that it was something, something, disappointed, blah, blah, blah, being responsible for one's negligent actions, yadda, yadda, yadda, and some other shit that Hanna had tuned out in his numbed state of shock and rage. The best thing was that she told him right at 7:59, when he was about to run home to take a shower so that he didn't smell awful and could actually put on clothes—which Toni had picked out from his closet that were really not bad at all—that did _not_ clash so viciously with his hair. In preparation for the evening, he had also been practicing Zen meditation all day—which he read about in a book he was supposed to be shelving one time—and Hanna had been pretty calm up until that point. But Heather just destroyed it and left him there in a burning, crumbling pile of despair because Hanna knew he would never make it to the café by 8:30.

The thought of Alex sitting there, waiting for him all alone, made Hanna want to cry.

His gold-eyed sex god had already left—because he helped open that morning, he got off an hour early—and Hanna did not have his phone number or _anything_ to get a hold of him to tell him what happened.

He paled and began shaking as he wondered: what if Alex thought he'd been stood up?

"Shit, shit, shit…" Hanna muttered, trying to finish up in the stockroom—where he had been banished for cruel and unusual punishment—as quickly as humanly possible. The industrial clock on the wall read 8:35 and no matter how quickly he moved, when Hanna looked back at the time, it was 8:40, then 8:54, then 9:02 and the inventory could not be counted fast enough because Hanna kept getting distracted, he kept having to start over. He was just unable to push the image of Alex, alone, waiting for him, and maybe doing that hopeful glancing thing over the booths every time the door opened. Had he waited? Would he still be there when…?

Hanna left the store at 9:23, almost an hour after their intended meeting time.

He answered his own question with miserable awareness: no, Alex had probably gone home and he would not be waiting. Just those simple facts made Hanna feel like his heart was being completely crushed. Because of that, Hanna's gait was slow and dejected as he walked to his car in the dark parking lot on that snowy, Friday night. When he told himself again that Alex had already gone home, Hanna wanted to die as he got into his car and sat there, staring at the steering wheel, numb with disappointment and guilt and anger. What could he possibly say when he saw Alex next? Would he ever agree to go somewhere with Hanna again after…? Hanna's eyes were hot and he hated himself because he wanted to fucking _cry_, but he didn't want to do it within sight of the bookstore that had _ruined his life_, so he put the key in the ignition and turned.

Nothing.

Hanna tried again and the car sputtered slightly, but would not start. The lights in the store shut down for the night, casting the last section of the shopping center into darkness, where Hanna still very much wanted to shrivel up and die. He was dateless and useless and cold and his car wouldn't work and—did it get any _fucking_ better?

Oh, it did.

"FUCK!" Hanna shouted, and beat his fist against the steering wheel until it hurt. The battery on his phone was dead; one digit in and the thing shut completely off. So, he was not only dateless and useless and without a working car, but he also didn't have a phone to call for help and the nearest bus station was a million miles away and Hanna barely had enough money to get home if he managed to _get_ on the last bus that came through at 9:45.

"Fuck…" Hanna said, but with a softer, bitterer tenor as he rested his forehead against the wheel. And he tried—he really, really _tried_—not to cry, but Hanna couldn't help it. His thin shoulders shook from the freezing temperature and the sobs, which, despite his best efforts to keep them in check, racked his body like some kind of illness. In a way, it kind of was an illness; a terminal one. Everything he had ever wanted had been taken away from him and it was back to the cold, hard reality of the situation: that Hanna was going to be alone forever and his car was never going to work properly and he would be schlepping books and dealing with his bitchy bosses for the rest of his solitary, virginal life…

A knock at his window made Hanna jolt out of his emotional thoughts.

At first, he thought that it would be the perfect end to the perfect day, where he would be robbed of whatever little money he had because he was a target: sitting alone in his unlocked car in the middle of the night. It would have just been awesome and at that point, Hanna would have thrown his thin wallet and outdated phone at the mugger and prayed to God that they just put him out of his misery and shot him right there. But what was on the other side of the glass was so much better than dying in some random act of street violence, because smiling, but concerned honey-colored eyes trumped the barrel of a gun any day.

"Are you okay?" he asked through the glass, and when Hanna did not immediately answer due to his shock and disbelief, Alex opened the driver's side door. The cold came in quickly, but Hanna barely noticed because his brain was desperately trying to process what he was seeing: Alex hadn't gone home and he looked worried and _what the hell was he doing there_?

"What're you doing here?" Hanna asked, vocalizing his thoughts, and his voice sounded miserably thick. He forgot that he was crying until the wind bit into his cheeks and then, realization sunk in. He probably looked like utter shit, which was definitely not how he wanted Alex to see him _ever_ because he wasn't that attractive to begin with. Hanna quickly turned away to rub at his face, sniffing and hoping that he wasn't all blotched up and gross-looking.

"Toni told me you were closing tonight and that you'd be late," Alex answered, and Hanna heard him shift a little closer. "Hey, what's with the tears?"

Just that question made Hanna unable to stop. He pushed his glasses up into his hair and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, damning himself for being such a goddamn pussy.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just, _fucking dammit_, Heather m-made me work late and you were gone and I c-c-couldn't call and I tr-tried to hurry, b-but _fuck I'm suchanidiot_—and now my car doesn't work and it's f-f-fucking Antarctica outside and I-I'm crying and _thisistheworstdayever,_" Hanna replied in a rushed mess of rapid stuttering and swears and tears that were so _uncool_…

If Alex ever forgave him, he probably wouldn't ever talk to Hanna again because he was such a loser.

"Wow, that does sound like a bad day…" said Alex, and Hanna felt a gentle hand on his back, rubbing in a soothing way that calmed him down considerably. He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel in self-loathing. Although the tears eventually dried—leaving an achy, itchy feeling in his eyeballs, for seriously—the presence of reality returned like a smack in the face. He'd just broken down like a five year-old in front of the sexiest being on the planet.

Hanna's hopes for getting a boyfriend plummeted, before crashing and burning in a vicious fire of angst.

"Shit…" Hanna breathed, shaking his head from its position against the wheel. Failure was more agonizing than usual, especially when Alex was so close and touching him and smelling really good, almost as if taunting him because Hanna would never _ever_ have him… "Sorry for…freaking out…Just forget everything I said..."

"Hey, I don't blame you at all," Alex said, and sounded so genuine that Hanna wanted to believe him.

"I just really wanted to be there…" Hanna whispered, painfully and openly honest, unable to look up from his knees or remove his head from where it pressed against the steering wheel with all his strength.

"It's not your fault," he replied.

"Jeez, aren't you mad?" Hanna asked, swallowing as he wondered just why the hell Alex had even shown up after being abandoned at their meeting place.

"No. Why would I be?" he inquired, and Hanna wanted to laugh, but he was feeling sick to his stomach and couldn't.

"I made you wait. For a _really_ long time…" said Hanna.

"Hey, it's okay," Alex answered, and Hanna felt his hair ruffled in the most affectionate of gestures.

"No it's not…" Hanna replied, feeling his face burning with shame and want for the man kneeling beside him on such a cold night, being so kind even after getting shafted on their date.

"Would it make you happier if I _was_ mad?" he asked. The equation of Alexander McSexerson plus anger did not compute. Beyond a strained sort of annoyance with Veser, Hanna had never seen the other man _angry_. It kind of scared him when he recalled that Alex knew Kendo, which pretty much consisted of people wailing on each other with hard sticks.

"No…I guess not…" Hanna finally conceded weakly.

"Good, because I'm not," Alex said, as if that settled everything. "And I guess this is as good a time as any to give you my phone number."

Hanna gripped the steering wheel so tight that his car horn honked, scaring him into an upright position in the driver's seat. He then had a clear view of Alex, looking so _good_ and honest that his anxiety just tripled on the spot, making his heart beat at the speed of a jackhammer. Had he really just said what Hanna thought…?

"Wh-_what_?" Hanna said, and wished to God he could stop _stuttering_ every time he was within a few feet of that man.

"My phone number," Alex replied, and the words came so easily to him that Hanna felt jealous.

"Um…" was Hanna's unintelligent response.

"So you can call me next time?" Alex suggested.

"Next time?" Hanna repeated. A fucking Hallelujah angel choir sang out _Next time!_ in his mind.

"Or sometime, whichever comes first," Alex said and Hanna could have just _died_ with happiness. The joy rendered him unable to speak, even more so when Alex laughed at whatever expression Hanna was making at that moment. It rang with the warmth of a second chance that Hanna never thought he'd see. "In the meantime, let me check out your car. Pop the hood."

"Okay."

There was nothing but relief and joy and happiness and _ohgodfuckyes_ he was going to get Alex's _phone number_. It was cold and snowing and his car didn't work and he'd cried like a baby, but Alex was there and forgiving and just so damn good-looking that Hanna could not stop smiling.

Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

**pqpq(I was going to stop here, but I didn't, aren't you glad?)pqpq**

Apparently, Hanna was more of an idiot than he thought.

After Alex took a look at his car—a very manly thing, by the way, because he knew what all the things under the hood were called and whatever it was they did to make the engine run—and jumped it to get the Chrysler to start, it was determined that Hanna had left his headlights on all day, draining the battery completely.

Which was how they ended up in the automotive section of Wal-Mart at about 10 o'clock that night.

Hanna was absolutely clueless when it came to cars. He just drove it and put gas in it and that was the extent of his knowledge, leaving him to stand awkwardly beside Alex as he checked a thick book full of numbers and giant block-looking battery things on the pages. The brunette behind the counter was doing a crossword puzzle and pretending not to be spying on them, though it was very obvious that she was looking at Alex and most certainly not even giving any mind to Hanna.

It only made him insanely jealous, especially because she was hot and Hanna wasn't and what if Alex decided that she was pretty and maybe wanted to date her instead?

"This is it," he said, distracting Hanna from his train wreck of jealous and worried thoughts when he pointed at the black box that looked like all the other ones in the book. When he went and pulled it off the shelf, it certainly did not look impressive or as important as it really was. However, Hanna did not concern himself with that, too busy staring at the price instead: $175. That was a whopping $140 that Hanna _did not have_ because he was so broke from paying the rent, along with electric for the month and buying groceries that week. Despite that, he reached into his back pocket to flip through the few bills he had—a grand total of five dollars cash and maybe about thirty dollars on his debit card, but only maybe—realizing quickly that whatever way he looked at it, roughly thirty dollars was still nowhere close to what he needed. And here he had gotten Alex to help him so much—and look so good doing it too—and Hanna couldn't even hold up on his end _again_.

"Er…" Hanna began, shoving his wallet into his pocket as he turned around, watching as Alex pulled the battery down off the counter as well as a bottle of what looked like blue Kool-Aid. Hanna found himself very distracted by the lifting of heavy objects, just because it made Alex hotter. His arms were probably _awesome_.

"The mechanics aren't here, so I'll install it," he said and then held up the blue liquid. "And you're low on anti-freeze, so I'll top you up."

"Huh?" was all Hanna could get out, following Alex like a lost puppy as he walked out the back door towards the snowy parking lot. The brunette was watching them as she closed up the cash register and picked up her crossword puzzle book again. "Um, I mean, what, _wait_—I didn't pay for it!"

"Don't worry about it," Alex replied, and set the battery down on the bumper of Hanna's POS car.

"Whaaaat? It's called stealing," Hanna said.

"I paid for it, Hanna," Alex answered, and Hanna could not believe it at all.

"Wh-what?"

"Don't worry about it," he said again, placing the jug of anti-freeze on the snowy ground beneath Hanna's right headlight.

"What? Don't worry about it? That was really expensive!" Hanna said, not knowing how to react. On one hand, he was flattered beyond words that Alex had done such a thing—and was going to install it for him in a very attractive I-so-know-a-thing-or-five-billion-about-cars-because-I'm-sexy kind of way—but on the other hand, Hanna was embarrassed at being broke and having this man—who he stood up and then cried all over like a _girl_—do _anything_ nice for him.

"It's okay," Alex said, propping open the hood of Hanna's car.

"How is it okay…?" Hanna mumbled, watching as Alex went into the back of his Subaru and returned with a small toolkit, a pair of work gloves, and blue bundle of something warm-looking. He rested these items on the engine, all except for the cerulean fabric, which was unrolled and put around Hanna's exposed neck. The redhead's protests died on his tongue with their proximity and the smell of aftershave lingering on Alex's scarf and those warm, honeyed eyes that always left him without any concept of the English language.

"It's okay because you're going to take me out for coffee after this," Alex replied, holding out his hand. "Deal?"

Blushing furiously, Hanna tentatively put his hand in Alex's warm palm and shook it.

"Deal."

**pqpq(And then I considered stopping here, but I didn't...awesome, right?)pqpq**

When Hanna's car came back to life, he followed Alex's Subaru to a nearby coffee shop called _Donkey_, which was anti-Starbucks in every way possible, so it was better than the bookstore's chain appearance and flavor by ten thousand percent. Not to mention, the menu prices were dirt cheap, especially for boasting Fair Trade everything so it was all around pretty sweet. Hanna ordered the first thing that had caramel and a chocolate chip cookie the size of the state of Maine. The girl with the pierced lip and fuchsia dreadlocks even heated it up for him, though Hanna saw that she was checking Alex out the entire time she mixed his drink.

"This is a pretty nice place," Hanna ventured, once he paid for their orders and they ventured off to find a table. It was similar to his dream, though with a hipster, almost earthier feel to it. The furniture was all mismatched with brightly colored cushions and blankets that all smelled like incense and coffee. People sat about eating and chatting or surfing the internet while others propped their feet up on hassocks and sat reading or playing board games, and one guy even had his guitar out, softly strumming while he hummed along with his friends in the corner.

"Have you ever been here before?" Alex asked.

"No. I really don't go out that often because of work…" Hanna admitted, hoping he didn't sound too much like a loser. It was bad enough that the day had gone so downhill and Alex had seen him _cry_ of _all things_ and then spent so much money and could still _like him_. It just blew Hanna's mind and he kept telling himself to not fuck up, because really, there just wasn't any room for that anymore. He facilitated conversation to not look like any more of a dumbfuck: "Do you come here a lot?"

"Sometimes when I'm on this side of town," was the answer, as Alex led him to a secluded, comfortable booth in the corner of a purple room. It was cozy, to say the least, and so small that Hanna's knees were very much in the way of Alex's, but the rose-colored light from the Chinese lanterns strung from the ceiling provided ample camouflage for Hanna's inevitable blush. He was finally on his first date which was nerve-wracking and scary and amazing all at once, especially because Alex seemed to like him in a genuine, truthful way, and his knees were warm and not moving from Hanna's. The redhead was amazed, because aside from all the bad shit that had happened, maybe tonight would not suck and he'd have a _chance_…

But then, Hanna realized that he couldn't forget all the _shit_ he put Alex through, and slumped down a little in his seat.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain," Hanna said guiltily, picking at the cardboard grip on his coffee.

"You're not a pain," Alex replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Hanna felt his ears burning.

"I still feel really bad about everything…" Hanna said, sitting up a bit more when Alex nudged his knee against his.

"I told you not to worry about it. None of it was your fault anyway," he answered. "Just be glad that your friend was creeping on me, or else I would have really thought you stood me up."

"Wait, what?" Hanna asked.

"Your friend Toni," Alex replied and the way he smiled and tilted his head was just adorable. "She was in Perry's with Veser. I think they were making sure that I was really going to be there and that you weren't going to run away."

"I wouldn't run away…" Hanna said, and then realized that he probably would have when the nerves got to him and made a face. "Well, maybe I would have—but that's beside the point! She was _spying_."

"She was being a good friend," he offered, but looked a bit skeptical himself.

"Spying in a friendly manner," Hanna amended, and gained some sort of pleasure knowing that he was the one who made Alex's lips quirk upwards slightly at the insinuation. "She probably just wanted to make sure that I didn't wear something ridiculous." Hanna glanced down at his old hoodie and the red uniform peeking out from underneath, which was the epitome of awful. His hair was probably a mess too and working all day, he probably smelled and he certainly did not want to know what he looked like after crying. The best thing on him was Alex's scarf, which he hadn't relinquished even upon coming inside. "Er, well, I guess it's too late for that…"

"If you're ridiculous, then so am I," Alex replied, and unzipped his coat to reveal his orange uniformed shirt and black tie and _holygods_ was that a pinstriped vest of sexiness? Yes, yes it was, and Hanna did not think that it looked bad in the slightest—especially because the top few buttons were undone just like in his dream so it was hurrrrsexy—but the redhead kept that to himself. When Hanna did not say anything to that, Alex just gave a shrug, leaning casually back against the booth and said: "Well, at least we're ridiculous together. It's no fun when you're all alone."

Hanna understood that all too well.

As the evening progressed, Hanna was relieved when he lost some of his nervousness. Of course, Alex was still unfairly hot and nice and spectacular, but Hanna was also able to not stutter and freak out as much as usual, which was pretty great, and when Hanna proposed a game of 20 Questions, he was relieved when Alex agreed. It was a little nerdy, but it was fun, and Hanna even had a little pad of paper to keep tally so that they both got in their questions.

"So where are you from?" Hanna asked to start out.

"Ohio," he replied.

"No, really," Hanna said, and Alex laughed.

"Seriously. I'm from Ohio," Alex said with amusement in his tone. "Born and raised in the Cleveland area up on the lake."

"No way," Hanna said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You don't have an accent."

"Not everyone does," Alex replied.

"Point taken."

"Where are you from?"

"Here. Well, not Glenwood, but a city just south of Salem called Independence."

"Interesting name."

"But boring place, let me tell you..." Hanna sighed, recalling his restlessness in the area and how much he had wanted to leave that place during his youth. At least he got his chance.

"Same thing with Strongsville. It's only thirty-five minutes away from Cleveland, so you think it wouldn't suck too bad, but it did," he replied.

"Yeah, so that brings me to question two," Hanna said, holding up two fingers for emphasis before continuing: "What brought you to _Oregon_? I mean, no offense, I guess Ohio sucks too, but _Oregon_? C'mon!"

"Well, it's nice. I like the mountains," Alex replied. "But I really came out here for school."

"School? Where?" Hanna asked. Alex took the stub of a pencil from his fingers and put another tally on Hanna's side, indicating that he'd used his third question as well.

"The Western Culinary Institute in Portland," he answered and then added—was he a bit _nervous_ when he said this?—"It's a Le Cordon Bleu university.

"Wait, wait," Hanna said, making the _hold the phone_ motion with his hands. "You want to be a chef? As in, you like cooking?" Alex made another tick on the paper, using up Hanna's fourth question. Hanna pouted and he grinned, but was adorably sweet and erased it so that they were back down 3 to 1.

"Yeah," he answered. "I got my first bachelor's in business, which sounded useful at the time, but it's not what I wanted to do."

"So are—" Hanna stopped when he saw Alex about to draw his fourth tally, and instead finished with: "—you going to ask a question?"

"I'm planning on asking two," Alex said, and held up two fingers like Hanna had done previously. Hanna felt a little hot when he recalled what he had dreamed of those fingers doing to him the night prior.

"G-Go for it," Hanna replied.

"Favorite color."

"Blue."

"Favorite movie?"

"Aw, that's not fair. Can I pick the top three?"

Because he pouted again and said that it was impossible to pick from such a large pool of greatness, Alex let him list his top ten, which were mostly action/adventure or thrillers of the older sort, because it was more original back in the day, in Hanna's opinion. The first Godzilla movies were definitely at the top.

"I mean, like the original Godzilla movies, you know, from Japan," Hanna clarified, and when he shifted slightly in his seat, the redhead let his knee rest against Alex's, who did seem to be bothered by it at all, which was _awesome_ and made Hanna's heart just want to burst with _hells yes_. His first date was actually _functioning_ and not sucking like he'd thought, because Alex hadn't run away yet and Hanna was on his best behavior to seem normal. "Speaking of which, haven't you been there before?"

"Yeah, I just got back a few months ago," he answered, looking a little surprised that Hanna knew. "Who told you?"

"A little birdie," Hanna replied, snatching the pencil to make a tally mark on Alex's side for using his fourth question. "So what were you doing in Japan?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he said, and Hanna nearly choked on his coffee with laughter.

"I _knew_ you were a secret agent," Hanna replied, once he could breathe again. Alex just grinned. "But really?"

"I went on the JET program, so I was an English language assistant to a high school teacher in Kasugai," he answered honestly.

"That's kind of cool. So do you speak Japanese?"

"Enough to get by."

"That's _awesome_."

"So have you ever wanted to go abroad?" he asked.

"Well, the furthest I've been out of the US was Canada, but that was on a school field trip, so it doesn't count," Hanna replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, yeah, I want to get out of the states sometime."

"If you could go anywhere, where would you go?" he inquired, and it might have been Hanna's imagination, but he could have sworn that Alex was starting up a hesitantly curious game of footsie beneath the table. It was everything in middle school that Hanna had missed out on and it fucking _rocked_.

"Ireland," Hanna managed to say, focusing more on returning the affection without making it seem too obvious in case Alex was just moving his foot... "You know, it's probably the land of my forefathers and whatnot..."

"Ireland's supposed to be amazing," Alex replied, "and if it's anything like Scotland, I can vouch for that."

"You've been to _Scotland_?" Hanna asked. His voice rose slightly in questioning, but also due to the _ohmygodyes_ response to his questioning nudge that Alex provided beneath the table. Sweet _lord_ if just the action to his ankle was enough to get Hanna hot and bothered, he wondered if he would be prepared for those hands and _lips_ to do their work...

"One of my uncles lives there, just outside of Stonehaven," Alex replied and Hanna was just about to reply how awesomely _international_ that was when the girl with pink dreadlocks appeared by their table, interrupting the conversation.

"Sorry to bother you guys, but we're closing up the back rooms for the night. The main room and the green room are open for people to stay until we close at three," she said before leaving—though Hanna didn't miss the lingering look that she gave to Alex and it made him insanely jealous—and Hanna wanted to pout, because their impromptu game beneath the table had to be cut short.

"I guess we should go find somewhere else to sit then..." Alex said, and together they gathered their coffee and small pad with pencil to search for another location. In the front area, there were barely any tables open—crammed with people studying or doing other desk work—but most of the furniture was empty in the room with green walls. Hanna had to make a split second decision and not freak out doing it, because, really, it wasn't so hard to take someone's hand and lead them to a nice, secluded corner where there was only a comfy loveseat and a low coffee table...Swallowing, Hanna threw caution to the wind, because the night was going well and Alex was so _cool_ and they had been playing footsie, so that had to mean _something_, right?

"What about over here?" Hanna suggested, proud when his voice didn't crack and his palm wasn't too sweaty when it clasped onto Alex's hand. And he was even more ecstatic when Alex turned his wrist so that they were _holdinghands—ohmygodohmygodohmygod _they were holding hands and it was _really nice—_like they were dating or a couple or something spectacular. When they sat down, Hanna was saddened to find that his five seconds of happiness had ended in order for their drinks to be given home on the coffee table and the pad and pencil to be laid on Hanna's knee while their coats were thrown over the register next to the window. However, his discontent lasted for all of thirty seconds, before he felt a warmth against the back of his neck and shoulder. Hanna's mind consequently imploded.

Alex Nice-Ass-and-Everything-Else Harper had his arm around Hanna.

Around. Hanna's. Shoulders.

He wanted to fucking _squee_ with delight and jump so high that he reached the moon and Mars and all the other planets all the way to Pluto—because, yes, he was a 90s teen and Pluto _was still_ a planet—but apparently his silent, wide-eyed like a deer-caught-in-headlights expression did not express that joyous emotion. Alex looked slightly concerned and Hanna could see that it was a bit fearful that he had done something wrong.

"Hanna?"

"Unf," was all he could get out.

"Is this okay?"

Hanna could only mutely nod, because there were no words to describe _utter bliss_. Those amber eyes actually seemed a bit brighter and Hanna wanted to melt into the warmth of Alex's shoulder and side and _sweet baby Moses in a handbasket_ it was his first date and he _wasn't_ failing. Their game of twenty questions continued despite its corniness—where Hanna learned that Alex's dad taught him to work on cars to impress girls, which was impressive to Hanna, who had a girl's name if that counted for anything, and in return Hanna explained that his Creative Writing major in college was pretty much a piece of paper that did not account for anything in the real world—but now the situation was slightly different. Their new position brought a bit more intimacy because Hanna didn't _care_ who might be watching them, as he had never gotten himself into the position where another person wanted to be so close to him and long enough to put their arm over him and let him _cuddle_ of all things. Although their height difference might have been a little awkward for Hanna—who was jealous of Alex's almost six feet while he remained closer to five—when they were standing, he found that while sitting, it was just _perfect_. Hanna fit right against the curve of Alex's shoulder and chest, which was quite comfortable he came to find out as the hours passed. And when he turned his cheek to the left, Hanna was right there against Alex's neck and strong jaw that smelled so delicious and fresh that it took all he had to not foam at the mouth because of his sex muffin's scent.

Perfectly incredible awesomeness would be the best way to describe it.

"Okay, so my question fifteen, then," Alex said, and Hanna heard him—actually _felt_ him—hum as he thought. "Old trilogy or new trilogy?"

"If that's a serious question, I don't think we can be friends," Hanna replied, and was filled with warmth when Alex chuckled beneath his ear. "Old trilogy 100%."

"I approve," he said.

"Okay, now mine," Hanna replied, and asked seriously: "Blondes or brunettes? Eye candy-wise."

"Hm, neither. I'm into gingers," Alex answered, and Hanna could not control his blush at the words or the fingers that began idly fiddling with a strand of his curling red hair.

"You're just saying that," Hanna said.

"Nope, I'm really into gingers," was his reply.

"Now you're just embarrassing me," said Hanna.

"I'll keep my preference for redheads to myself from now on," Alex promised.

"Aw," Hanna mumbled, in a disappointed tone.

"Don't want to embarrass you or anything."

"I've already embarrassed myself a million times over today with my crying stunt earlier. Forget about that, okay?"

"Only if I can express my interest in gingers."

"Fine..." Hanna finally allowed, because Alex's fingers certainly felt nice in his hair and _waitasecond_, were they having a cute and flirtatious conversation?

"I'll remember that," Alex said.

"Do you remember what number you're on?" Hanna asked.

"Sixteen, I'm keeping track," he responded.

"Go ahead then," Hanna said, and it was almost challenging, except for the fact that it wasn't a competition, especially when the competitors were snuggled up in such a position. It was like they were in high school, cuddling on the couch while Mom and Dad were at the movies or something and debating on what was okay and what wasn't while thinking about when they were going to kiss...

"Okay, let's see here..." Alex murmured—effectively bringing Hanna out of his conjured fantasies of him and Alex making out all over the purple loveseat—before replying with softly sung lyrics: "_Hey, boy, where'd you get it from? Hey, boy, where did you go_?"

"_I learned my passion in the good old fashioned school of lover-boys_," Hanna replied, despite the fact that he couldn't sing for anything but his own entertainment. Still, his pitchy response was the correct one, Hanna knew, because when he glanced up, Alex was smiling wider than ever.

"I had no idea anyone remembered that song," he said.

"_Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ is one of my favorites," Hanna replied, and grinned, thinking of his next question. "And speaking of lover-boys: boxers or briefs?"

"Well, that does depend on the season," Alex answered honestly.

"That's not really an answer," Hanna pointed out, and went so far as to poke him in the side of his firm stomach. "So, which?"

"You'll find out, just be patient," said Alex, similar to the way he had spoken the same words in Hanna's dream. He went as red as his hair at the insinuation and the images of the two of them in that green Subaru, doing the dirty like pros and Hanna liking _every minute_ of being pounded into the cushions of the backseat. Silenced by these lusty thoughts, Hanna could not muster a reply, leaving Alex to take his turn on the next question. "So my turn: are you more of a go-out or stay-in sort of person?"

"Depends on the season," Hanna replied, using his phrasing exactly.

"Ha ha," he said, in the way that people do when they're unamused, despite the fact that Alex actually did seem amused.

"Actually, it does," Hanna answered seriously. "I mean, when it's cold out, I kind of like staying in where it's warm, but when it's warm out, I usually like to be outside. But if it's too hot, no way. Air conditioning for the win."

"Well, I kind of meant it more in the sense of… let's say that hypothetically a certain person wants to hang out with you in the future—" he began, and Hanna could not contain his grin.

"Mmhmm..."

"And wants to make sure that the day is spent doing something that you like—"

"Okay..."

"So would it be more of a stay-in-and-watch-a-movie sort of thing or a go-out-and-find-something-else-to-do kind of deal?"

"And this is all hypothetical."

"Speculative and hypothetical, yes."

"You and your big words," Hanna teased, as he stalled for time in thinking. What _would_ he do in this hypothetical-Holy-shiznits-Alex-wants-to-hang-out-with-him-again-and-do-something-fun sort of situation? He breathed in and then out, smiling in a goofy manner when he realized that the answer was so _simple_. "I'd have to say, I guess, in that case, that...as long as I'm with this certain person, doing anything with them is great."

"Well aren't you cute?" Alex said, just like that time in the bookstore, in which the simple words had sent Hanna flying off the shelf in joy. It was the same again, only he was contently resting against the person who uttered that affectionate phrase and enjoying the feelings to his hair and glad that his body was not taking it in a sexual way for once in his life. Hanna realized it was because he was beginning to like Alex for more than just his tight pants and nice legs and that ass that definitely fueled his fantasies every night...All of those attributes were just icing on the cake to the personality that Hanna was drawn to, like a moth to a flame.

Or some other cheesy line like that {which he had read quite a few of in his time in Romance when he was supposed to be working, but Heather couldn't know that or else she'd fire him for sure like holy hell hounds}.

"Cute or not, one condition," Hanna replied: "Let's not climb mountains, okay? I'm just not built for that."

"Mountain climbing?" Alex repeated, and then laughed. "No way, not me."

"But, I mean, really? You don't like to—not at all?" Hanna asked, pulling back only slightly to look up at Alex suspiciously.

"I've only climbed one mountain in my life and that was Mt. Fuji," he replied. "Believe me, that was enough."

"But, I mean, you seem like you would...and you said you liked the mountains..."

"I like _looking_ at the mountains. Climbing them is different all together."

"But...you drive a Subaru..."

"_That's_ stereotyping. Subaru's are comfortable and can move a lot of things, like my stuff from Ohio to Oregon, for example," Alex replied. "Oh, and they're cheap. There's that."

"Gotcha."

"Your next question, by the way."

"Okay, this one's easy: pirates or ninjas?" Hanna asked, liking that he could make Alex entertained enough to laugh so often.

"Ninjas, most definitely," he answered, and his fingers were twirling strands of Hanna's hair, leaving the redhead's mouth _dry_. He swallowed and pressed his cheek lightly against Alex's collarbone to hide his flushed face.

"T-Thought so. Wise choice," Hanna said.

"Speaking of choices: you have the opportunity to see Aerosmith—pre-_Honkin' On Bobo—_or the original Depeche Mode live in concert. Who do you see?"

"Aerosmith without a doubt," Hanna replied. "That was a _choice_?"

"You're right; there was only one right answer to that question."

"Okay, so my last one, then!" Hanna said, humming against the collar of Alex's shirt as he thought of his last one. He had to make it good and get something useful out of it and because he was caught between wanting to cuddle and wanting to fuck, Hanna asked: "If you could make love to any song, what would it be?" Alex answered immediately:

"Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. Piano version with Freddie Mercury doing it solo. Most amazing thing I've ever heard."

Hanna practically swooned.

HE was about to tell Alex how much he _loved_ him and that song and could definitely-without-a-doubt have sex with him while having Freddie caress them with his chillingly amazing good vocals. But Hanna never got the chance to let his mouth run away with him—thankfully—because dreadlock girl was back to tell them that the cafe was closing and they would have to leave.

Okay, for the record, _wow_.

The situation was as such: it was three in the morning and Hanna had _never_ really been out that late before, especially with a _guy_ and when they stepped outside, he was surprised at the quiet and stillness of everything. It was cold and snowing, a little bit harder than before, but there was little other movement and sound as they left the _Donkey_ and walked down the slight hill towards their cars.

"Oh, hey, I forgot," Hanna said as they walked, reaching for the scarf around his neck with the intention to return it. A warm, calloused palm stopped him by grasping onto Hanna's hand.

"Why don't you keep it for right now?" Alex suggested, and before Hanna could protest, threaded their fingers together loosely so that they were holding hands in a natural, but _awesome_ way that made Hanna beam radiantly.

"Okay," he said, holding onto him as they walked through the snow. In the parking lot, only their two cars remained and Hanna realized that it was the end to an evening that could have been a lot worse, but thankfully was not. The redhead made a mental note to thank Toni for meddling, or else he would have been stuck crying in his car all night and Alex would have thought that he hated him and none of the cuddling or the talking or the touches would have _ever_ happened and _Jesus _if Hanna wasn't gay, he would have had to swear his first-born child to that woman for being such an amazing intervention.

"Well, I guess it's kind of like good night, even though it's really good morning at this hour," Alex said, and in the lamplight, he was just once again that gorgeous—but now _touchable—_Adonis topped with a fresh sprinkling of snow that was shiny and alluring, especially in the dawning hours.

"Yeah, I guess," Hanna replied, and smiled softly, not relinquishing Alex's hand. He didn't really make to pull away either, so it wasn't like Hanna was being a crazy.

"I had a lot of fun," he added, and his gold eyes _meant _it with so much genuine force that Hanna felt slightly blindsided. He had _really_ had that much fun? It made Hanna feel fucking _great,_ and that energy fueled his expression to brighten further.

"Me too," Hanna said, "well, you know, after the whole failing bit on my part—"

"I told you not to worry about that—"

"And then there's my car, which I have to pay you back for, I really will, because that was really nice, you know and thanks, but I can't—"

"Don't worry about that either—"

"I will," Hanna said firmly, because Hanna was a lot of things, but he always paid back his debts.

Always.

"If you say so," Alex replied with a sigh of defeat.

"Okay, just so we're clear," Hanna said.

"Crystal," he answered, and then grinned in the whole _call me Xander_ sort of manner that was really attractive. His attractiveness only increased when Hanna realized that they were still holding hands and they were very much alone where no one would intervene if they decided to show a little more affection… "Oh, and I just remembered that I have my last question."

"Go for it then," Hanna replied, and the hand in his pocket was crossing the first two fingers for luck.

"Do you think that kissing on the first date is kind of skanky?" he asked seriously. His expression made Hanna laugh uncontrollably, as well as the word _skanky_ coming from Alex's lips. "I guess that's a yes. Does that make you one of those old-fashioned types who has to wait until the third date before that happens?"

"A-Absolutely fucking not!" Hanna said, once he could breathe again. He tried to make it sound serious to make sure that Alex knew he thought nothing of the sort and would very much—_pleasepleaseplease—_enjoy a kiss from him if he would be so kind to initiate it. Hanna would have, but he didn't know _how_. After all, it was just that girl in fifth grade, on the cheek and nothing more, and then after that she hadn't ever spoken to him again so Hanna had always wondered if he had done something wrong...

"Good."

And that was all Alex said—all he had to say, really—before Hanna found himself very close to the other man, trapped between the warmth of his body and the cool steel of his Chrysler. His mouth was dry, and his lips were too, but Hanna couldn't pull away or say anything at all, because he didn't _want_ to distract Alex from his intended path. Hanna struggled to keep his breathing even as Alex touched him, cupping his cheek perfectly in his palm like in all those sappy romance movies that Hanna would never _ever_ admit to watching. But it wasn't all clichéd like Hanna had heard people describe it: where there were fireworks and explosions and the world felt like it was going to spin off its axis because of the emotion and nervousness and amazement.

It wasn't like that at all.

Hanna could barely scrounge up the details for it, because he could focus only on the warmth of Alex's hand and his body and the bit of gold peeking out from beneath his lashes before the redhead closed his eyes. The words to describe his first kiss were simply _Holy Shit._ Honestly, he had been waiting for the fireworks, but was not disappointed to find that it was something else entirely. It was soft and quiet and beautiful and everything in Hanna's life—thoughts, feelings, everything—just emptied into a blissful nothingness. He didn't feel the snow or the cold, just the warmth of those lips and Alex's body and the sensation of serene contentment that filled him, reaching the very core of his being. It was his first official kiss and Hanna was so glad that he wasn't overthinking things, like where to put his hands or feet, or if he should do anything at all, because it was just so right and perfect in every single way.

Except when it ended too early for Hanna's liking.

The snow had started falling harder and Hanna's glasses were fogged up, but his lips were tingling and nice and tasted like cinnamon and it was all because—he realized with a _holycrapholycrapholycrap _mindset—he'd _kissed_ Alexander Long-Legs-And-Nice-Ass-and-Gorgeous-Eyes-and-All-Around-Sexy-And-Smart-And-Funny Harper _on the lips. _He definitely wanted to do it again—maybe even have Alex pin him to the back of his car and just ravage him with more of those amazing kisses—but it was three in the morning and snowing and Hanna had to help open tomorrow, so he supposed it would have to wait.

"Hanna? Are you alive?" Alex asked gently.

"Mmn'es," was all Hanna could get out, because his brain was mush with the feeling of Alex's fingers in his hair again and then the sound of his quiet laugh at whatever expression Hanna was making.

"Here, let me fix these…" he said, and Hanna felt his foggy glasses removed. A few seconds later, they were returned to his nose and he could see again, leaving Hanna to flush in the white light of the parking lot at the mere sight of Alex, who was practically glowing with all the snow and everything else.

It left Hanna to wonder how on _earth_ had he managed to get so _lucky_ when he couldn't even find change on the ground or win on scratch off lottery tickets.

"T-Thanks…" Hanna replied, actually able to speak, though it was softly spoken because Hanna could still _taste_ him on his lips like everything that was delicious on the planet and Alex was smiling at him in a way that made his eyes look like polished citrine and, _man_, Hanna would be really pissed off if the whole thing was just another dream. When Alex's fingers returned to his hair again, Hanna knew he would actually be fucking_ heartbroken_ if it was another dream.

"As much fun as it's been, I have to help open tomorrow so…" he said, tone already apologetic.

"H-Hey, me too, it's okay, so yeah, I mean, it's chill right?" Hanna answered, in his usual uncoordinated manner that left him reeling with his usual amount of embarrassment.

"Yeah, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," Alex replied.

"Definitely," Hanna said, and he was a bit breathless and infatuated sounding, so he amended with an unhelpful: "Er, because I'll be at work too in the morning and—um, yeah, so…see you…" Alex smiled and Hanna's mind forgot all language function then and there.

"Good night, Hanna," he said, and kissed Hanna again, very softly, but in a way that made the redhead's knees weak and shaky with want. Maybe there were fireworks, but they hadn't reached that level yet, because certainly that second one, although shorter, was a bit _hotter_ than the first.

"Nih't…" was the sound that Hanna made with his tingling lips and trembling knees and heavy eyelids. He couldn't move for a few seconds and watched as Alex got into his car, started it up, and turned on the lights. To be more natural, Hanna forced his legs to walk to the driver's side, where he opened the door and hopped in. Creeping in the rearview mirror as his vehicle came to life, Hanna watched as the Subaru went into reverse and gave a light honk of farewell, before disappearing into the snowy evening.

Afterwards, Hanna did not recall the ride home, only coming back to himself when he was back in his small apartment wrapped in Alex's scarf and with a permanently dumb smile on his face. Even his stack of bills and the pile of dishes in the sink and the knowledge that the water-heater was probably still broken—so taking a shower would be a real _bitch _in the morning—did not faze him. He actually hummed to himself as he plugged in his phone to the charger and pulled off his clothes one by one, leaving them strewn about the floor and random chairs in his flat. Falling into bed in only his boxers and Alex's sweet-smelling scarf, Hanna stared up at the ceiling with a grin on his now-not-virginal lips.

Hot damn, it rocked to be in love.

**pqpq**

HOLY CRAP. CAPSLOCK DIABEETUS FOR THE WIN. WASN'T THAT SHIT SWEET?

**Dhampir72**


	4. Rum

**A/N**: And now for some Hanna/{...} pr0nz-ier stuff. I wanted to make it so dirty that the mature content filter blushed, but maybe I'll save that for another chapter.

OH. And I only proofed this like maybe 3 times {which is 3-5 times less than usual} so please let me know if you catch any bad grammar problems or something~!

**pqpq**

Hanna Falk Cross never would have believed it, but he was actually good at the whole "dating" thing.

The hardest part of the entire process had been getting someone interested and then asking that question that initiated a meeting based on the mutual attraction of the parties involved. Afterward, it was a simple and not-so-scary-but-still-thrilling ride, where Hanna knew that Alex didn't mind holding hands when they could or brushing knees beneath the tables at the café or at the bar where Veser and his band played almost every weekend. And neither of them ever said no to the nightly kisses in the parking lot after work along with the same affection in the morning if they had a stolen moment or ten before opening. But, really, the whole dating things was awesome, because they were able to go out together on the weekends—hell, even the week_days_—and enjoy things that Hanna had always liked before, only now feeling an increase in his love for these activities because Alex was with him. It was strange how such simple things like going to the movies or the park or out for coffee or doing those stupid little five minute picture booth things could seem so different than they used to, now that he was ridiculously and very happily in love.

He used to hate people like them when he was miserably single, but because he no longer held that status in life, Hanna was living it up and…

It. Felt. Awesome.

During this time—past the dates and kisses and the wanting touches between them that were beginning to become more and more frequent—he learned more about Alexander Harper, who he had viewed simply as a gorgeous enigma who {for-some-reason-or-another that Hanna couldn't quite figure out} liked him. The more time they spent together, the more Hanna began to understand the complexities and paradoxes that animated the feelings of another individual. With this knowledge came the ability to be able to identify the usually unobtrusive emotional responses of his dark-haired partner, who did not wear his heart on his sleeve like Hanna had been accused of doing one too many times in his life. Alex was quiet and, not really secretive, but exclusive when it came to what he wanted to show and what he didn't. But Hanna could be observant when he wanted to—and in this instance, he really wanted to—and so he began picking up on these little subtleties. In the span of only a few weeks, Hanna began to understand some of his mannerisms and habits and came to the conclusion that his previous assumptions of perfection were incorrect. Alex was still deity-like in his attractiveness and unbelievably nice, but he was _human_, just like Hanna, which meant that he was not exempt from emotions like nervousness, insecurity, and discontent.

The redhead watched and became associated with Alex Harper, the person, not the sex God, and began to realize that there was so much more behind those uniquely pigmented eyes than what he had initially presumed.

He knew that Alex was not happy with his job—but then again, who _was_, especially when they worked where they did?—despite the fact that he always smiled to everyone, no matter how bad of a day he might be having. He could tell even more so as Hanna slowly began to put the pieces together: the stash of cookbooks and culinary magazines beneath the counter in the café and the recollection of the unfinished application to the Culinary Institute that was tucked under the passenger seat in Alex's car. When Hanna tried to bring it up—with just a simple question as to when he was considering applying to the school—he saw the way Alex's jaw tensed slightly as he made up some excuse or another as to why he was putting it off. The anxiety did not go unnoticed—the way his eyes would shift slightly to the side, the manner at which he suddenly started to nervously chew at the inside of his cheek or pick at his nails—but Hanna did not call him out on it, despite his want to do so. But since he hadn't mentioned anything about Hanna's own awkward actions, such as the stuttering and random bouts of flailing for no apparent reason, the redhead respected him enough and did not push anything.

And Alex was pretty good at distracting him from wanting to do so, too. There was no doubt about that.

"So…you wanted to show me the stockroom?" Hanna asked—naïve and curious—one Wednesday afternoon as he stepped into the small area that smelled heavily of fresh coffee and spices. Behind him, the door closed with a soft swish of air and left behind only the slightest bit of light from the bare, humming bulb which hung from the ceiling. Hanna then realized that they were very much alone and it was semi-dark and, _oh _so _that's_ what it was about: that Alex certainly did not want to just give him a tour of the backroom for no reason except the privacy it offered from prying eyes and managers. The redhead felt his heart speed up incredibly fast at the concept of seduction and the thumping in his ears almost drowned out the sound of quiet footsteps coming closer to him. His entire body _trembled_ as Alex's arms enveloped him from behind and—_ohsweetJesus_—those lips started lightly pressing the most gentle of kisses against his jaw and neck. It was amazing how something so _soft_ could feel so hot and reduce Hanna to nothing but a pair of wobbly knees and a hardening cock.

"In a way, I guess I did," Alex said, and his voice was low with a slight bit of hoarseness that Hanna liked as much as the attention given to his ear, where the following words were whispered with a sensual honesty: "I've been thinking about getting you back here all day." Just the way he said it and the manner in which those lips toyed with Hanna's ear melded together in combination with the thought of possibly giving it up in such a naughty place, and it was enough to him _whimper_.

"A-Ale—" he gasped out, but could not even finish the name. This was because Hanna's lips found themselves suddenly preoccupied in a very nice manner as his body pressed flush against Alex's with his want quite obviously nudging against the taller man's thigh. They hadn't really ever made out before—like for seriously going at it like high schoolers by their lockers "making-out" making-out—so the experience was new and exciting and nerve-racking all at once and Hanna was already aroused despite the fact that they hadn't even _done_ anything yet.

"Nn…" was the only sound Hanna could make to show that he liked it, standing on tiptoe to receive the affection. Although kissing Alex had become easier after their first few times and Hanna had lost the majority of his insecurities, doing something a little different was bringing him back to where he had been previously: unsure of what to do with his hands and his mouth—was he supposed to close his eyes and which way was he supposed to turn his head again?—and _holycrap_ Alex was trying to French him and Hanna had no _clue_ how to respond. He could only let him in and feel his mind lose all coherent thought at the hot rush of a sweet-tasting tongue against his.

{At least now he knew that there were fireworks after all, like the huge ones they used after baseball games or at Disney World or some shit like that, because they were amazing and bright and spectacular and even _loud_ all at once in his head.}

Trying not to over-think things and thereby freak himself out, Hanna focused instead on what he could feel—the hot tongue in his mouth and the palms holding his cheeks and the closeness of their bodies like in all those dreams that Hanna woke from, aching and sticky—as he pulled Alex closer to him in a desperately needy fashion. Sure, he'd never done any of this before, but Hanna realized that it took spontaneous tactics of his own and a bit of mimicking to get the job done. His enthusiastic response was apparently the correct one, because it prompted Alex to pin him against the nearest stainless steel rack, which would have been uncomfortable if Hanna hadn't been so immersed in the moment and the lips against his and the hands that strayed from his cheeks down his back and then under his shirt and—

"_Ah_…" Hanna panted when they came up for air. His glasses were slightly foggy, so Hanna could only see the bit of light over Alex's shoulder and the red glow of the EXIT sign above the door and, _Gods_, Alex had started mouthing his way down Hanna's throat hungrily. It dragged a small moan from Hanna, who clutched at Alex's shoulders like his life depended on it—because really, he felt like he might fall off the face of the planet and be thrust out into space if he let go—which only seemed to urge him on. He was swiftly moved up along the shelf and his body then found itself supported by Alex's knee, putting Hanna in a better position for the both of them. Curling his leg slightly around Alex and enjoying the sensation of being almost as tall as the other man, Hanna then felt his shirt entirely removed from where it had been tucked into his belt. The quick motion let the one-size-too-big uniform out with enough room for Alex's hands to continue roaming along the redhead's back. And, _Lord_ _have mercy_, his palms were so warm and calloused and amazing. Together with the small biting, sucking kisses to his neck and the electrifying feel of Alex's rough stubble against his skin, these affections were enough to make Hanna embarrassingly hard and he blushed redder than he ever had in his life.

It was difficult not to notice, Hanna presumed, because he was horny to the point where he was shamelessly rubbing against Alex's hip in search of relief.

But thankfully Alex didn't seem to care and when Hanna got his breath back, they were kissing again and it was getting easier—because even Hanna didn't seem like a fast learner, he actually was—and, _ohmanohmanohman,_ Alex's fingers were toying the Hanna's belt like _yes, fuck, YES!_ He hesitated only momentarily, but after Hanna encouraged him with another small moan and the movement of his hips closer to his hand, Alex began working at the buckle at his previous pace. When it came undone, those nimble fingers unbuttoned Hanna's jeans before pulling the zipper down at an unfairly slow pace.

Alex gave him his tongue back for a moment and said his name in a husky whisper: "Hanna?"

"Hnm," was Hanna's reply, because his lips and tongue were heavy, feeling deliciously swollen with the lingering taste of _Alex_ and in his pleasure-addled mind, Hanna could only wonder _why he stopped_. If he had paused to ask permission, that was sweet and everything, but that meant that Alex wasn't touching his cock and Hanna just wanted him to effing _do it_ already. Before he could ask, Hanna forced his heavy lids to open so that he could look up at the other man. It was too dark to see if he was as flushed as Hanna, but the redhead knew that he was been enjoying it just by looking into his eyes. They had gone a darker, more syrupy shade of golden brown that was the fucking epitome of _lusty _and it made Hanna long for his touch even more. "Pl-Please..." he whispered in a yearning, craving tone that Hanna had read about and maybe used once or twice—or _all the time_—in dreams, but never knew he could _produce_ in reality before that moment.

And it was either Hanna's politeness or the slight shift of his hips that did it, because the redhead then realized that he wasn't the only one enjoying things, if the ridge against the underside of his thigh was anything to go by.

Holy. _Shit._

Hanna's mind raced with those two words over and over again when he let the situation sink in: they were in a back room at work, making out like never before, and Alex was hard and Hanna was most definitely the same way, which was made all the better when they started kissing again and the redhead felt himself pushed so hard into the shelf that it hurt, but in a way that was strangely _good. _Hanna locked his arms around his shoulders, fingers gripping into that soft, dark hair when Alex's hand dipped below the waistband of Hanna's boxers and—

_Mother of—_

You could touch yourself as much as you wanted and bring release through those means, but until someone else did it to you, you had no _idea_ what you were missing. It was in that moment that Hanna realized his hand would never cut it again because _Alex's_ hand was around him and it was hotter than anything he'd ever felt before. The calloused pads of his fingers and palm were enough to make Hanna pull out of their kiss, unable to use his tongue while trying to breathe and moan at the same time. He was reduced to just making needy, incoherent sounds that did not classify as words in the slightest as his fingers clenched in Alex's hair. He stroked at the perfect pace and applied pressure at all the right times and, _yes_, Alex's thumb rubbed around the tip of his cock, smearing heat and wetness all over the head and shaft.

Hanna wanted to _scream _because it felt so _fucking_ good.

And really, he wanted to last, but it was too hot and good and, _holy crap_, he was getting his first ever handjob by the most gorgeous man on the planet, which just sent Hanna to the edge too soon for his liking. He tried to get out a warning, but Hanna couldn't even make a sound, let alone a word, and silently felt the rapid build-up to completion. It had been that steady, burning feeling in the area just behind his navel, increasing as the moments had worn on, like lava churning beneath the earth before a volcanic eruption. Hanna could feel it rising in him like magma as the ache intensified, wanting release, and that sensation made his back stiffen, as if something had grabbed hold of his spine and would not let him move an inch. Almost like a knee-jerk reaction, his thighs clenched around Alex and his cock felt like it was just going to explode and he wanted it to so bad, while at the same time wishing he could ride it out _just a little longer. _But Hanna couldn't and his head fell back against the shelf as he tried to breathe and moan and hold on all at once. His last ditch effort was in vain, because when Alex gave him another small squeeze, it sent him cresting and Hanna was cumming like he had never had in his life. Just the force of it made his body tremble and caused his vision to blank to white with pure euphoria, easing into darkness only after the last aftershocks of pleasure had coursed through him.

If _that's_ what it was like to have Alex touch him with just his hand, Hanna had no idea what sex was going to be like. Probably spectacular enough to send him into a coma.

With the thought of a coma, and then Alex, and then sex, Hanna found himself coming back to his senses slowly. It was to warmth and a sated exhaustion and a bit of stickiness, but that wasn't what Hanna concerned himself with, instead focusing on the slightly blurry, yet worried expression hovering a few inches from him.

"Hanna?" Alex said, and touched his cheek.

"Hmm...?" Hanna managed, smiling sleepily and completely pleased up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and there was a smile on his lips too that just made Hanna feel warm and gooey inside. Actually, a bit on the outside as well, but in an awesome way.

"Good," Hanna said, through somewhat panting breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the shelf again. "Amazing." It was after he spoke this word that Hanna realized they were sitting on the stockroom's cool linoleum floor and when Hanna had a bit more of his comprehension come back to him, he asked, confused: "Why're we on the floor?"

Alex looked a bit sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You kind of...passed out..." he said apologetically, and Hanna flushed with embarrassment. How _lame_ was he to be rendered unconscious from a handjob that lasted maybe all of three minutes? Three minutes of pure heaven, don't get him wrong, but still, how _lame_ was that? Hanna never wanted to show his face again and he kind of wanted to die a little too. That was until Alex kissed him in a gentle, reassuring manner and said: "Hey, don't look like that. It's a compliment."

"Howizzit a compliment?" Hanna asked, and Alex chuckled in that way that just made the redhead warm all over.

"It means I'm not as rusty as I thought," he replied and Hanna was red, especially when he felt a cool draft of air caress his flaccid cock and, _oh crap_, he'd almost forgotten that he wasn't the only one who had been enjoying everything. So, maybe Hanna was okay at the dating thing, but he was certainly bad at the whole being-a-good-boyfriend thing when it came to sex and that just planted a seed of paranoia inside of him so that Hanna's thoughts raced with the possibilities of Alex leaving him because it wasn't cutting it enough for him physically. Hanna did not want that to happen, just as much as he didn't want some giant meteor to hit the Earth, because without Bruce Willis and an amazing track by Aerosmith, it would just be fucking tragic. With the knowledge that he had to do something and fast, Hanna mustered up his courage and decided to use the information he'd consumed from all those stupid movies and books that he never would admit to utilizing in real life. His mission? To convince Alex the Sex Muffin Harper that he wasn't a complete failure in bed.

"I'm sorry, though..." Hanna said, and locked his gaze with Alex's as he moved his—slightly shaking with anxiety and other fits of nervous everything at what he was about to do—arms around those broad shoulders.

"Don't apologize," Alex replied, and Hanna knew that his plan was working just by still-syrupy colored eyes that became half-lidded by the light, flirtatious touches to his short hair.

"T-Then can I..." Hanna began, and even let his arm fall from Alex's shoulder with more balls than he thought he possessed, going so far to smooth his palm down the front of his orange shirt, fingers catching only slightly on the belt before landing upon his thigh and... _bingo_. Whoa, now _that_ was impressive.

Toni had been right about the whole shoe size thing after all.

Hanna pressed his hand a bit more firmly against it as he moved closer, taking in the way Alex's eyelashes fluttered slightly at the touch and the near-silent intake of breath that said without saying how much Alex did not mind the sly caress. And man, it was so erotic watching as his eyes got darker the closer Hanna's fingers crept under the green apron and towards the zipper of his jeans, because the redhead was determined to return the favor and it was just like touching himself, right, so it wasn't like he wouldn't know what to do with an identical piece of equipment right?

Right?

He was seriously just centimeters away from Alex's cock and Hanna's heart started racing again, pumping heat and arousal through his veins so that he felt the stirrings of life in his spent member, and just brought their lips together for some more delicious making out when—

The door opened, casting harsh florescent light into their previously dimly lit lovenest.

"What the—ohmygod_I'msosorry_—" was the jumbled apology from the door, where Tiffany stood with her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth and _shit_ Hanna had been so close and then—

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Hanna realized that looked even worse than he thought, because his pants were undone and all his junk was just _out there_ and it was obvious exactly where the redhead's hand _was_ beneath Alex's apron, which—to make things even worse—was covered in fresh, damp blotches where Hanna had cum. Only three words entered into Hanna's mind:

_Fuck._

_Shit._

_Damn._

**pqpq**

Tiffany quit.

She just outright, in a quiet flurry of blond hair and too-big-to-be-natural breasts, turned around and threw her apron onto the ground and quit. Hanna found out after the fact—because they rushed to clean up and escape before she set the alarm or something and Hanna guiltily crept back to the stacks while Alex was left with the aftermath of her resignation and the erection that had not been taken care of—and was told by Toni later that afternoon, who was informed by Veser during her break, that Tiffany had apparently been lusting after Alex since he started.

"She was _jealous_ and couldn't take it," Toni told him, and she was wickedly grinning as they reorganized the historical reference section. "She was jealous of _you_."

"That's...just weird..." Hanna mumbled, though his cheeks were warm with a feeling of pleasant victory. No one had ever been jealous of him ever, because no one had ever wanted to _be_ him before. The feeling of superior awesomeness was probably bad for his ego.

"So speaking of the reason for her jealousy, I have a feeling that it was something Tiffany saw," Toni said in a prompting sort of manner. She shifted the arm holding the stack of Roman military tomes as she looked slyly over at Hanna, who was trying to ignore her stare. "You know. Something that she could not unsee?"

"I don't know...whatyou'retalkingabout," Hanna mumbled, and he was feeling hot.

"Something happened~!" Toni said.

"Nothing happened," Hanna replied, and pulled at the collar of his shirt nervously.

"No, you were definitely being naughty," Toni said in a knowing manner, stepping closer to him. "Oh, man, did she walk in on you guys _doing the dirty_?"

"We weren't _doingthedirty_," Hanna coughed out, and his blush was so intense he felt like he had a horrible sunburn.

"Aha! So you were doing _something_ and she just happened to walk in on you!" Toni said, jabbing him in the arm with her finger.

"We weren't doing anything, I swear," Hanna replied.

"You're a horrible liar."

"N-No, I'm serious. We didn't do anything."

"Hickies don't appear by themselves, Hanna."

Immediately, his hand went to his neck. Where his fingers pressed against certain parts of the flesh, it almost felt as if he had small bruises.

"H-Holy f—is it really noticeable?" Hanna whispered.

"No...not at all..." Toni said unconvincingly.

"Dammit, Toni, tell me for real," Hanna said.

"It's not nice when your friends tell lies, is it?" Toni asked, cocking her head to the side to make her point clear.

"Toni..." Hanna began in apology, but was silenced when Toni leaned closer to him to ask in a conspiratorial-sounding whisper:

"Did he go down on you?"

"N-No…" Hanna said, and began to feel a little uncomfortable. After all, it was the mark of a gentleman to never kiss, get jerked off, and then tell about it.

"Mmhmm," was her unbelieving response, followed by a wide eyed inquiry: "Oh my god, did you at least give that man a handjob?"

"Er...not exactly..." Hanna replied, and his voice was low with shame and embarrassment as he recalled the needy, wanting expression Alex had made in the dark when Hanna touched him. God, he'd made Alex _horny_—which was awesome, because Hanna doubted that anyone had ever become so aroused because of him—and then just left him there, unsatisfied.

Hanna was such an _asshole_.

"You're bad at this whole being-a-boyfriend thing, aren't you?" Toni asked, making Hanna's self-esteem plummet further. "I mean, jeez, you just peaced out? Poor guy's probably got to rub one out by himself now."

"You're not helping, Toni…" Hanna said miserably.

"Holy _shit_," Toni murmured, as if she'd realized something. "You mean Tiffany really _did_ see you guys and you weren't finished yet?"

"Let's not talk about this anymore…" Hanna replied, and focused very hard on making sure the alphabetization was done correctly with their new orders. It was the only way he could get Alex's flushed cheeks and darkened eyes out of his mind without wanting to rip his hair out in frustration. But even as Toni quieted and they returned to work in silence, Hanna could still taste Alex and feel those hot palms against his skin, recalling the way he'd been touched and kissed and then brought to release. Just the recollection made the redhead think about everything he didn't want to: the exhilarating way their tongues meshed together and the electrifying feel of the semi-rough stubble on Alex's chin, but most of all, that desperate little half-breath Alex had taken in when Hanna touched him and didn't finish…

"Fuck…" Hanna mumbled to himself, and the guilt felt like a weight in his chest.

"Why don't you make it up to him in the parking lot tonight?" Toni suggested, and Hanna had the sneaking suspicion she might be a mind-reader. "Or better yet, just go home with him."

"N-No, I can't…" Hanna replied, shoving a book about Julius Caesar onto the shelf with more force than necessary. There was no way he could do such a thing, even though he kind-of-no-actually-really-wanted-to have Alex take him back to his place—which he still had not seen, but certainly imagined when he was alone at night—so that they could have a bit more privacy than just the stolen moments outside by their cars, or at the cafés and restaurants and bars and parks and everywhere else they seemed to go besides the mattress. Hanna didn't want to seem fast—because he liked Alex too much to ruin it just because he was sex-starved and needing to get laid before he turned 25, thank you very much—but he just couldn't help but want Alex on every possible level.

"Why not?" Toni asked, and Hanna didn't think he could describe it, so he shrugged and replied with a simple:

"I just can't, okay?"

"You're scared, aren't you?"

Hanna nearly dropped the book entitled _Alexander the Great_ onto his foot. Upon seeing the title, Hanna frowned and turned it over so that he didn't have to look at the name that already haunted his dreams—but in a very nice way, don't get him wrong—and every waking thought. And speaking of Alexander the Great, Alexander Harper was pretty great, all the time with his words and his smiles at _just the right time_ and the way he made Hanna coffee with all his favorite shapes and then there were those kisses and his hands and, shit, it just made him think about what they did and how awesome it was, but at the same time, how much Hanna _sucked_ for not reciprocating.

"I-I'm not scared," Hanna said, trying not to get too distracted from the tasks at hand.

"You're lying," Toni replied and flipped some of her hair over her shoulder as she kneeled onto the ground to squeeze a large volume about gladiators into an impossibly small space. "Everyone's scared their first time."

"Can we…_not_ talk about my virginity?" Hanna asked, and his voice was a little too high to be natural.

"Look, Hanna, just don't freak out about it," Toni said, and looked up at him. There was just sincere honesty and no trace of the slightest bit of teasing in her eyes, making Hanna's tensed shoulders relax slightly. "It's okay to be scared, but don't be so afraid that you're not yourself. You won't enjoy anything that way and neither will he."

"Dammit, I just don't know _what_ to do," Hanna admitted, and crouched down next to her to help her with the large volume.

"About what?"

"About _any _of it."

"Watch porn."

"Toni, I'm serious."

"No, seriously. Watch porn."

Hanna felt like his ears were on fire.

"Either that or read Cosmo," Toni suggested, jamming the book into its proper place.

"Cosmo?" Hanna asked, incredulously.

"Hey, it'll give you some good tips," she said. Hanna looked skeptical as he stood up.

"Cosmo?"

"Cosmo."

**pqpq**

In Hanna's opinion, Cosmo had to be the dirtiest magazine on the planet.

It had been embarrassing enough walking into that part of the aisle, but even more so when he picked up one of the pink, glossy rags to read it, especially because one of the main headlines read: _50 Experimental Tips to Spice up Your Sex Life_. Hanna flipped through the magazine quickly and saw that there was everything from discussions about condoms—holy crap, Hanna forgot there were different _sizes_ which made him wonder just how _big_ Alex really was because, shit, he'd touched it but not really and, shitfuckdamn it was too embarrassing to think about—to a breakdown of what guys liked and didn't like in bed. He actually became immersed in an article with the title: _5 Simple Steps to Mind-Blowing Oral Sex _and could not believe how much it sounded like rocket science to him. There were too many factors to consider—length, thickness, circumcised, uncircumcised, etc—and too many risks and warnings that advised not to involve teeth or pull or suck too hard and, _shit_, there were so many ways that it could go _wrong_…

"Hey," came a voice from behind him, and Hanna let out an _eeep!_ of surprise when he realized who it was.

Talk about things going wrong.

"What're you reading?" was Alex's curious question. When Hanna turned around, he realized he was doomed, because he was standing in front of the Cosmo shelf with a very-obviously feminine magazine in his hand while Alex was putting back a stolen copy of one culinary journal or another and Hanna wanted to fucking _run_ away. How embarrassing was it that he had to read a girl's magazine to get some idea as to what to do with the man _right in front of him_ in bed?

"N-Nothing!" Hanna said quickly, but in doing so, raised his hands and flashed the cover of the magazine at him. The word _SEX_ was probably the part that was seen, because it was Hanna's bad luck and the universe conspiring against him to just be full of fail. He hurried to think of an excuse and got out a hasty: "T-Toni asked me to pick this up so I did and wasn't reading it or anything like that because that's just weird and, haha, never mind, I'm gonna go…" He was just three steps away from his initial spot when Hanna felt his hand grasped in a gentle hold.

"Hanna," he said, and when Hanna looked at him, he saw the concern in those golden-brown eyes shining through more than ever.

"Yeah…?" Hanna asked, and it was in that same weak sort of way he'd spoken on the first night they'd ever spoken for more than twenty seconds. And just after Hanna had thought he'd gotten over his awkwardness, he had been transformed into his previous nervously apprehensive self.

"Are you okay?"

"'mfine."

"Are _we_ okay?"

And the way he asked it nearly made Hanna want to cry, because the look on his face told him that Alex believed _he_ was the one who had done something wrong. Shaking slightly, Hanna moved his fingers through Alex's, trying to keep his mind from recalling the excellent way he had been touched by those same digits. Despite those wonderful sensations, Hanna still felt awful and gave him a similar, guilty look.

"_Are _we okay?" Hanna asked, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone before stepping closer. "I mean, I-I, after everything, you know, and I didn't, for you, like—"

"It's okay," he said, and he actually looked a bit relieved at Hanna's response. He smiled in a way that Hanna found comforting; the redhead breathed out a sigh, thankful that somehow, Alex knew exactly what he wanted to say, even when he couldn't say it properly. "And yeah, I mean, I would have liked you to, but it wasn't like you could. The whole thing was kind of my fault to begin with. I shouldn't have brought you back there…"

"B-but it was_ awesome_," Hanna retorted, and then instantly felt guilty, so said in a rush: "I-I m-mean, it would have been better if you, you know, did too, but I mean—" He stopped when Alex looked like he was trying not to grin at his stutter.

"I got it," he said and it was amazing how he could go from looking so generally nice to completely lusty in the span of mere seconds. Hanna suddenly very much wanted to just do him right there in the aisle. "So I'll just take a rain-check, then."

"Y-Yeah, sounds good," Hanna replied, feeling slightly saddened when Alex's hand dropped from his.

"Later," he said.

"Bye…"

Hanna stood there, grinning like an idiot as he clutched the November issue of Cosmo in his hand, relieved in knowing that the hot ass walking away was still his.

Because Tiffany quit, the responsibilities of the café fell mostly on Alex and Veser.

Their other co-worker, Vicky the Semi-Hot Lesbian, was taking finals at her university in Portland, so she only showed up for random shifts closer to the weekends, leaving Alex and Veser to be the two full-time lapdogs of the place. It made that rain check a little harder to come by, because Alex was so busy during the day and stayed even later than he ever had at night. Hanna loitered a bit during the time between when he got off his shift and when Alex was released from his punishment so that they could walk to their cars together. When they would leave the store, Hanna would hold Alex's hand as the two of them navigated across the slippery asphalt in silence. At the car, Hanna would stand on tiptoe to kiss him and Alex would hold him and kiss him back, but it felt exhausted and lacked its usual mind-numbing heat. It wasn't his fault, so Hanna was not angry and did not express his disappointment, but that did not stop him from going home to release some of his frustrations alone.

But after Alex had touched him, nothing felt quite like it and the redhead went to bed dissatisfied quite a few times.

All of it was because of Tiffany, whom, upon quitting, had spurred the manager to come in himself to oversee the place and who decided that he was going to be a cruel and unusual son of a bitch. Veser had a better name for him, but it involved too many swears about one's mother and other sexually abusive language for Hanna to remember, so he was just going to roll with the original _sonofabitch _option. Hanna hadn't had the pleasure of meeting this asshole, but closer to Thanksgiving—when things were more strained than usual—the redhead finally had that unpleasant opportunity. His name was Ples Tibenoch and he spoke with an accent that was rather annoying in Hanna's opinion—probably because everything was annoying about the person who was standing between him and Alex's usually epic, planetary axis-shifting kisses—and this feigned sort of politeness made his insults more complicated than they needed to be with such an advanced form of syntax.

"He's fuckin' crazy," Veser confided to Hanna, that day he met Mr. Tibenoch, when he stumbled across the green-eyed teen hiding in Multimedia with Toni on his way to the café. "Don't go over there. I'm telling you that you'll regret it."

But Hanna wanted to see Alex and the fear of meeting his bat-shit crazy manager was not a deterrent, especially when he had his own Velociraptor bitch of a supervisor breathing down his neck in a very similar manner to the vicious dinosaur in question. When he arrived at the café, Alex was cleaning and looking a bit dejected behind the counter, but upon seeing Hanna, brightened considerably. Even though Hanna could see the tiredness around his eyes, it still made his day to see Alex smile.

"Hey," Hanna said, and approached the counter.

"Hey," he replied, and without Hanna even having to ask, began to prepare his usual order.

"Is everything okay?" Hanna asked, glancing towards the back, expecting the monster of a boss to come rampaging through the wall, like the rhinos and shit in Jumanji.

"Yeah, just kind of…" Alex began, but stopped and didn't continue. Hanna understood without him having to say anything at all, and was about to reply when he paused as well. There was a strange sound coming from the back room, which reminded Hanna of a clock somehow with its _tick tick tick tok tick tok tick_ing and such. Hanna's mind immediately went from _clock_ to _bomb_—before dashing to the show 24 with Kiefer Sutherland, but that was only for like half a second because Jack Bauer was the most amazing thing ever—too quickly. And maybe Mr. Tibenoch was a ticking time bomb, because he certainly seemed that way when he appeared, ushering a pale, dark-haired man with him as he walked with a self-possessed importance that was quite revolting. When he saw Hanna at the counter, the redhead watched as his eyes peeked down over his abnormally long nose before moving disdainfully over the spotlessly clean counter top to where Alex was making his drink. He sniffed and then pulled out a gold pocket watch from his pinstripe—but not sexy, not like Alex's, just so that was a million percent clear—vest.

"Mr. Harper, did you complete the list that I left for you?" he asked.

"Almost everything," Alex replied vaguely; Hanna could tell that he was very much irked by the man's presence, and probably his ticking too, because that would just get fucking ridiculous. Mr. Tibenoch snapped his watch shut with an annoyed sniff. The sound continued and Hanna wondered why. Maybe his Timex was broken or something.

"Please make sure that you attend to your duties and apply yourself to them completely. If you do not, then I will most certainly know about it and that is something that I will not tolerate, understood?" Mr. Tibenoch asked. Hanna wondered how Alex managed to _not_ beat him repeatedly with the end of a broomstick.

"Yes, sir," Alex said.

"Well, _time_ is wasting," he said, and looked at Hanna. He felt as if he were being scrutinized by some sort of robot, and as Hanna was reconsidering his previous assumptions about the improbability of Skynet and the take over the Machines like in the Terminator series, the man sniffed at him to get his attention. Hanna realized he was blatantly staring at his uniform and name tag—which was better than the hickies, which Hanna had managed to cover up with some sort of magical girl cream that Toni's friend had brought with her to conceal her acne—but the redhead prided himself in doing an awesome job of not fidgeting under his gaze. "And you should get back to work, young man. We must all be working together in flawless harmony to make a place such as this tick perfectly and precisely on time, which means on schedule."

"I'm on break," Hanna said, and did not miss the way that Alex almost dropped his cinnamon canister at the response. It looked like he was trying desperately hard not to look entertained, because Mr. Tibenoch didn't and just kind of made an annoyed sound before turning to the other man behind the counter.

"I presume that since you've transferred and have experience that you can start today," he said and before the pale, bespectacled man could say a word otherwise, Mr. Tibenoch left from behind the counter and strolled into the store. Hanna could hear his watch ticking and tocking loudly even as he disappeared.

Everyone was very quiet until they could no longer hear him.

"Man, does anyone else want to push that guy down a fucking flight of stairs?" said the new guy.

Hanna snorted in an attempt not to laugh, but couldn't help it and Alex was trying to hide his entertainment, but a grin fixed itself upon his lips anyway. And that was how Conrad Achenleck became their ally and friend.

Begrudged, but still definitely a friend.

**pqpq**

Hanna thought that Veser played at the gayest-sounding club in Portland, and that was saying something coming from him.

It was called _The Squeeze_ and was located in a sketchy part of town that was probably built on booze and cocaine, but then again, what wasn't in the 60s anyway? It was old and shoddy and a little freaky to be driving around in such a bad area, but Hanna was still pretty stoked despite all of this, because he and Alex drove up together that night after the store closed. It was the first time since Mr. Lameass Tibenoch had appeared that they'd been together for more than a few minutes, and Hanna was very keen on using their time wisely by having Alex cash in that rain check, because he'd _finally_ done his homework.

As in, he watched _porn_.

It was awkward, but actually quite educational, Hanna discovered. And though he felt guilty jerking off to two other dudes getting it on, the redhead knew that the ends would satisfy the means so long as it helped him make Alex's night _awesome_. Because, really, he wanted to see his expression when he came. Something told him it would be fucking _fantastic._

So.

They had just returned from the bar—where Hanna had some trouble convincing the barkeep that he was indeed 24 and, no, it wasn't fake ID, and yes, he was telling the truth, so help him—and it was loud, but Veser's band was actually not half-bad, so that was okay. Maybe a little scream-o, but still pretty good and the bass pounded in Hanna's ears, effectively blocking out any thumping of his heart he might experience when he trailed his fingers lightly over Alex's thigh beneath the table. Toni was watching the band and Conrad—who hadn't wanted to come, but was dragged along by an over-enthusiastic Toni, who probably wanted a designated driver so that when she drank herself into a coma, she would at least not die in fiery wreck too—didn't seem to give a shit what they were doing because he was trying to avoid the affection of a pretty girl who had dropped into the booth next to him. With these distractions, Hanna pretended to be watching the musicians from their seat and the gyrating mess of bodies in the pit before the stage, but really, he had been observing the way Alex's fingers clenched around his drink at the touch, the knuckles turning whiter the further Hanna moved up his leg.

"Hanna," Alex said, leaning closer to the redhead's ear so that he could actually hear him over the blasting music. He sounded a bit excited, though was obviously trying to control it. That just made Hanna want to do him even more, especially when he asked: "What're you doing?"

"You," was Hanna's reply, because he just couldn't help it. Sure, he was nervous about making such a bold move, but had already had half his drink and was so crazy about Alex that even that didn't matter. And, damn, did Alex give him an expression that made Hanna feel hot and bothered, sending the stirrings of heat inside himself growing like a forest fire that would make Smoky the Bear run away screaming like a little bitch. But anyway. The sensation was all because of him because there was just something about Alex looking pleased, but slightly nervous, and overall _horny_ that was just _unf_.

And Hanna found it absolutely amazing that he could make someone feel that way.

It was more intoxicating than the alcohol, watching Alex's expression, and more addicting than any drug—though maybe that wasn't true, because the only drug Hanna had ever done was pot and that was two hits at some friend's birthday party in college, but it hadn't really done anything except make lights brighter and make him paranoid as _fuck—_when he felt tremble of muscle beneath his palm which let him know he was definitely doing it right. What followed was so subtle that someone who did not know Alex would never have guessed what his feelings were at that moment, but Hanna could tell and it became a bit harder to breathe; something so simple as the manner in which his eyes darkened and the heaviness to his lids and the way he parted his lips in a way that was just so _fuckable_ that Hanna felt his own cock rise to the occasion.

Oh, what price he would pay just to have that mouth on him.

The thought was almost unbearable.

"Guess this means you want me to use my rain check, hm?" he said, and it was kind of unfair when he placed his palm against Hanna's hip and moved it over the fabric of his jeans. It was wonderfully distracting, but Hanna had resolved that he was going to return the favor and could not forget himself before that happened. And he tried to give Alex a sexy smile, although it probably came out more coy and hesitant than anything.

"I do," Hanna replied and, Christ, they were in public, but he could not stop rubbing his hand against the front of Alex's pants. Beside him, Toni was screaming out lyrics with the song being played and Conrad was being openly molested by the girl with dark hair at the end of their booth while Hanna was undoing the buckle of Alex's jeans, one-handed like a pro, beneath the table. It might have been a combination of the flashing lights and pounding music mixed in with too much rum and coke that made Hanna so brazen, but dammit, he was enjoying things and—if the bulge beneath his palm was anything to go by—Alex was certainly enjoying things and it was dark enough, _right_?

"Oh my _God! Where_ are you putting your _hand_?"

When that exclamation reached Hanna's ears, he immediately retracted his hand—which was almost beneath the waistband of Alex's underwear {briefs, by the way, _niiiiice_}–as if he'd been burned, feeling instantly guilty that they'd been caught _again. _Alex definitely looked disappointed and Hanna felt the same way when he realized that the question had been Conrad's, barked at the vixen that was all up on him in an attempt to have very quick and casual sex with him.

"Don't be such a pussy," the woman chided, and left a purple kiss on Conrad's cheek. "And call me by my name, darling."

"I don't _want_ to know your name!" Conrad hissed at her, and his eyes were pleading silently at Hanna and Alex to save him.

"It's Adelaide," she purred and Conrad's desperation to be saved increased by over nine thousand.

"What kind of name is that? Are you a fucking hooker or what?" Conrad asked and she laughed, gripping his hair in a way that made Hanna feel awkward and embarrassed all at once, because he'd done the same thing to Alex back in the storeroom and made a mental note to ask if it hurt as much as it looked like it did.

"If my boyfriend comes around, you _have_ to tell him that one," she said.

"B-boyfriend?" was Conrad's response, as he tried to scoot away, bumping right into Alex in the process. His pale fingers clutched at the table as he leaned in to whisper to them: "Oh my god, you guysbetterfuckingsaveme."

"Come on, you," Adelaide said, and grinned maniacally as she added: "I'm gonna make you my bitch."

"W-What the _fuck—_!" Conrad got out, before he was yanked right out of the booth by the leather-clad sassy vixen. The last thing Hanna heard over the music and Adelaide's laughter was his scream: "I didn't even want to COME HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

Hanna just stared after him, a bit confused and put out that Conrad had made such a scene and distracted them in the first place. But still, Conrad—whom had been dubbed Connie by Hanna and Confags by Veser—was a part of their group and hopefully did not lose his virginity with the hot dominatrix with the possibly irate boyfriend. And speaking of virginity, Hanna was never going to lose his if people kept interrupting them _all the fucking time_.

"Er...maybe we should go after him..." Hanna said, though the disappointment bled into his voice at the thought of abandoning the table and Alex's half-opened pants to go search for Connie in the dark of the club.

"Yeah, we probably should," Alex replied, but didn't move from his spot. He was looking hot and sly and, _yes_, that was his hand traveling up from Hanna's knee in the most enticing of manners again, saying plainly that he felt the same way about not wanting to leave, and _heck yes_ this was like the green light to everything awesome. But when he was caught in that gaze, the redhead swallowed because his eyes were just so hungry and the first two buttons of Alex's jeans were still undone, _damn_, he remembered how badly he wanted to just go all out tonight. Then, when Alex kissed him—tasting minty and sweet, like his Mojito—it was that heated, mind-numbing contact that Hanna had been craving for what felt like a million years.

"We're bad friends..." Hanna murmured against his lips.

"We are bad friends," Alex conceded, but neither of them did anything to remedy that status. Because, yeah, Hanna had vertigo like he had been on a rollercoaster for three days and the beat of the music was awesome for making out. It was that same sort of kiss from the storeroom that was just hot and needy and this was all while Alex touched him, rubbing gently against the front of Hanna's pants with the heel of his palm, matching in time with the music and _everything_. And, _finally_, Hanna was so close, where his fingers were just about to slip further beyond the waistband—just a tad, and he felt nothing but heat and the coarse bit of hair that was so amazing it equated to nothing but gibberish in Hanna's mind—when—

"Get a room or something, JEEZUS."

It was Veser.

And Toni.

And the rest of the band.

And the band's groupies.

And probably the band's groupies' moms too, for all Hanna knew, because fuck, where had all these people come from? And why was it that every time the two of them were close to getting something done, it was completely interrupted? And so embarrassingly too, because really, there's no discreet way to pull one's hand out of another person's pants. Try it sometime.

Yeah. Exactly.

"Uh...s-s-so, Veser, good show. Y-yeah, good show guys..." Hanna tried, but all the band members looked freaked and somewhat embarrassed while Veser just appeared as annoyed as usual. Toni was the only one who looked happy for him, despite the awkward situation, where Hanna tried to act normal as a very red Alex quickly buckled his belt back up beneath the table.

"Get lost, fags, we need the table," Veser said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in a gesture to get lost. Alex actually gave him the finger before tugging Hanna along by the hand to get out of the booth.

"Where's Conrad?" Toni asked over the music, as a beer was shoved into her hand by one of the older members of the group. Hanna shrugged at her as he was led through the dancing crowd, intent on drinking himself into a coma at the rate his bad luck was just doing its best to keep him and Alex from achieving much of anything. He ordered a rum and coke the minute they were at the bar, and downed it so quickly that it burned his throat.

"Hanna?"

It was Alex and he was close, smelling like mint and freshness and, _huh_, the rum was pretty good after a third drink because it tasted like cinnamon. It was almost as good as the arm that moved around him and the lips that brushed against his ear when Alex asked him what was wrong.

"'snothing," Hanna replied, shaking his head only once, because more than that made his vision blurry and the lights from above the bar blur together in lines of glowsticks from the dance floor, streaming into beams of purple, magenta, and gold tinted a slight shade of emerald. Hanna ordered a forth drink, because he felt like he was just sucking more than he should, but before he could drink it, Alex's hand stopped him.

"Don't blame yourself," he said, and when Hanna looked at Alex, he realized how stupid he was being and relinquished his hold on his drink. It earned a smile that warmed Hanna more than any alcohol ever could. It was amazing how they could exchange so much dialog with no words, because Alex had pretty much admitted that, yes, they were both horny idiots, but hey, that was okay, because he still liked Hanna and would be willing to do more. Actually, that last part was said aloud, and Hanna was glad because he might have misconstrued it in his drunken state, if it hadn't been for the promising: "I could always cash in that rain check later."

"Tonight?" Hanna asked, because even though he was drunk, he still knew that he wanted Alex to just _do him_.

"Hanna..." he said, and it sounded a bit hesitant. Hanna leaned closer to him and stared into the light brown eyes before him, which, upon closer inspection, reflected the lines of color from the pit so that they were hard to read beyond the fuchsia and violet and the smallest flickers of green. It was an intense, visual experience that Hanna thought too much about, because the Captain was doing Coke inside of him and making him very dizzily giddy.

"Please?" he asked, and kissed Alex lightly.

"I dunno..." Alex said.

"Please?" Hanna asked again, pressing another kiss against his lips, then his chin before moving down along his jaw. He tasted_ good_.

"Maybe... if you're sober when we get home..." Alex said a bit weakly.

"Alex," Hanna said, and looked at him in a meaningful manner.

"You're drunk, it's not a good idea unless—" Alex's response was cut short when Hanna pressed a finger to his lips.

"You're too damned nice..." Hanna replied, drawing out the vowels slightly as he leaned forward and kissed Alex with tongue and _everything_, right there at the bar without giving a flying shit who saw or who cared. All Hanna knew was that he wanted Alex and Alex wanted him, so it was simple mathematics, right?

And when Alex kissed him back, Hanna knew he'd won.

"Fuck it, let's go home then," he said when they parted, and Hanna could taste the rum from his own drink on Alex's lips. It was nice and spicy with just the slightest aftertaste of sugar and mint that was just delicious and when Hanna was led away from the bar, he stopped Alex several times on their way to the door to taste him again and again. It was during one of these pit stops that they ran into Conrad, who was being held captive by a bunch of people that looked like straight up vampires in Hanna's drunken opinion. The redhead had no idea what they were talking about, but Alex was trying to convince someone of something or another while Hanna entertained himself by putting his arms around his boyfriend—that was okay, right? To assume that they were boyfriends, because they were, kind of, in a way, maybe it was something he had to ask Alex when he was not drunk off his ass—before sliding his hands up beneath his shirt and over his warm back, which was nice and muscular and, yeah, Hanna had a brief moment of clarity to understand what he was doing, but he couldn't dredge up enough self-_anything_ to care.

Then the thumping music was gone and there was just cold air and the sound of someone's voice behind him—bitching hilariously as usual, so it had to be Connie—but Hanna was too busy trying to figure out why it felt like he was floating, and then he realized it was because he was being carried. _Shit_ he thought, and tried to remember if he had eaten anything, but since Hanna couldn't recall, that probably was the reason for his quick intoxication, which—so wait, he was being carried? He did not know, and Conrad's voice fell away to nothing but silence and the warmth of a body against his and, well, it was nice, and Hanna was tired, so he figured that maybe it wouldn't hurt to just close his eyes for a minute.

When he came to with a little more awareness, he had the sense to know that he was in a car that was moving and there was a seat belt digging into his shoulder, but whatever. Beyond the windshield, snow sped towards his vision with the white blurs of streetlights and Def Leppard was on the radio—Two Steps Behind, the Acoustic Version, which was okay, because it was late and the song was slow, but usually Hanna would say no and get some Hysteria on any day—and when he turned his head, he saw Alex with his hands on the wheel. Hanna could see that his lips were moving along with the lyrics.

"Meh, this song..." Hanna grumbled, and Alex started slightly, apparently not having realized he was awake. When Hanna sat up a little straighter, he held his head and looked around. They were on a back street that he had never been on before and before Hanna could ask, Alex pulled into an apartment complex that Hanna had never visited. "Where're we?"

"My place. You're gonna stay here tonight," Alex explained, and pulled into a parking place.

"Shiiiit, did I pass out? Again?" Hanna asked, and upon moving a little more, found that his lightheaded giddiness was returning steadily. Rum was awesome that way, like the gift that just kept on giving.

Until it started taking, which would be tomorrow morning, and then rum was a bitch with a fucking snaggletooth.

"For a while," Alex said, and killed the engine. He yawned and unbuckled his safety belt before ruffling Hanna's hair. "C'mon and let's go in and get some sleep."

"Wait, wait, waaaait!" Hanna insisted, and struggled with his seat belt for a moment before opening the door. There was a lot of snow on the ground that was just pristine, because no one had walked in it yet and it was just fucking so perfect that Hanna _had _to—

"What're you doing?" Alex asked, and when he came around the side of the hatchback, Hanna was lying on his back with his arms out by his sides.

"Making a snow aaaangel," Hanna replied, stopping when Alex suddenly appeared above him. It was just him and the flakes of snow in his hair and the white that continued to descend from the sky. Alex was smiling, but he looked sleepy and a bit drunk, which was okay with Hanna, because he looked hot no matter what really.

"You're too damned cute," Alex said, and held out his hands to Hanna, "but c'mon and get up. Iz too cold out here." Hanna pouted, reaching for the outstretched palms, and when he had them, he pulled with all his might, hoping gravity might do the rest. And down a tipsy Alex fell with a surprised sound and a thump on the ground that pushed up a cloud of fresh snow. He laid there unmoving for a moment before there was just a half-chuckled: "Hannaaa."

The redhead just laughed because they were ridiculous and having fun, even though the night hadn't ended up like they wanted.

And it might have been the snow, or the way Alex rolled over and rested his head against Hanna's chest, but he kind of wanted to shout _I love you_ at the top of his lungs, because no one had ever made him feel so good when he should have felt anything but.

However, Hanna never did, and after a few long moments, the snow just became too cold to lie in any longer. When they managed to get themselves up from the yard—after Hanna started an impromptu snowball fight, which Alex stopped immediately by picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder—and up the stairs inside the dimly lit complex, Hanna realized that this would be the first time he ever visited Alex's apartment. There wasn't much to see in his position, though and he was so drunk that he couldn't think of the names for colors or patterns anyway, so Hanna just let Alex do what he wanted with him, which consisted of helping him out of his damp clothes and into something warm and dry that smelled like cloves and sandalwood. When he wiggled his toes, he even found that a pair of cozy socks had been placed on his feet.

"Hey," Alex said, and it was only by the light of the bedside lamp that Hanna was able to see his blurry outline. Where the hell were his glasses anyway?

"Hi..." Hanna murmured sleepily, and smiled widely at him.

"Do'you want anything?" he asked, and it was slurred a bit. Hanna wished he could read the red digits on the clock on the nightstand, but then again, it didn't really matter what time it was. Fuck work and obligations and everything else in the world, because Hanna was lying in Alex's bed and he was there and they were there together, so nothing else mattered.

"You," Hanna answered, and it was without inhibitions and only pure honesty and when Alex leaned forward to turn off the light, Hanna could see he wasn't wearing a shirt and man, what a great view. Hanna couldn't stop smiling and Alex smiled too before the light went out with a click. The mattress dipped slightly as Alex crawled into bed with him and then there was just warmth and lips against his that whispered:

"Okay."

**pqpq**

So you know what's awesome? Writing this at work, on a Sunday, when my boss is like, right next to me. Then finishing up the final touches—at work again—on Monday, with my supervisor trying to read over my shoulder. It's super awkward and awesome and I'm going to hell lolololz.

BUT Alex's rape face = magic, all the more so because Hanna finds it as hot as I do.

Oh, yeah, do you like the place where it left off? -is shot- I'm a terribly mean person, but it's pretty awesome to be me.

**Dhampir72**


	5. Pancakes

**A/N**: Glad you all enjoyed Hanna/{…} in the last chapter, despite the massive amounts of cockblocking, which is totally hilarious to me and will be forever. Onwards, to some more hurrhurrhurr then, shall we? First half of chapter five starts NOW:

**pqpq**

Hanna was not in his own bed.

That was the first thing that he realized upon waking, which was a gradual process, slow due to the grogginess from a long night and the lingering effects of too much alcohol. Because of that, it took a moment for Hanna to establish the fact that the blurry closet across from him was not his, because that's where his dresser usually was, with all the stacked comics and books that he'd read and re-read a million or so times. But yes, there wasn't a closet ever there and there wasn't a nightstand on the left side of the bed because the space between the mattress and usually-there dresser was too small to fit one. However, there was definitely a closet and a nightstand, and on it Hanna could see the blurry red figures of a clock and the bottom half of a lamp, both of which were definitely not his. And no, his sheets didn't smell this good—especially when he hadn't been to the Laundromat in forever due to being completely broke—and the blankets normally weren't so warm and his body pillow usually wasn't the one spooning him, breathing softly against his hair so—

Wait.

Wait.

_Wait_.

Hanna swallowed and felt his heart hammering like he'd just run a marathon, though he tried to manage his breaths in an attempt to calm down. He started with the facts: he was not in his own apartment, in his own bed, with his own pillows, but instead somewhere he did not know that was comfortable and smelled like cloves which was just spicy and delicious all at once. And then there was the arm around his waist and the warmth of a body pressed against his from behind. Calmness be damned. It took all the self-control in the world to not start hyperventilating immediately.

What had happened last night?

There were some images—hazy, but still there—of the bar in Portland and the lights on the drive home, the taste of rum and the feeling of snow through his jacket. After that, there was only darkness and a few sensations of being kissed and touched and everything tasting like mint, so it had been okay at the time, except now everything was remote and Hanna's judgment wasn't clouded by alcohol, so he was essentially _freaking the fuck out_. The only thing that Hanna knew for sure was that Alex had been there—those eyes looking at him in the low light with only want and the feeling of his warm hand against Hanna's thigh, which had been so close, but so far from where it needed to be—which was fine, but _dammit_ to hell, Hanna could not recall anything beyond that. What if they had _sex_ and now he couldn't _remember_ anything?

The thought of missing such an event was just completely unfair.

Hanna breathed in and out until he managed to keep his heart from wanting to beat itself to death, but his thoughts still raced at a thousand miles an hour. Sleeping unawares behind him, Alex—please, please, it _had_ to be him, right?—shifted slightly, but did not wake. Meanwhile, Hanna was left trembling when he felt the familiar stubble brush against the back of his neck, reawakening the aching want inside of him that had persisted since the first time he laid eyes on Alex. And then Hanna realized: he was in bed with Alex Harper. Alex Harper was in bed with him. They were in bed together, as in, they had spent the night on the same mattress. Together. Side-by-side. Spooning. Whatever.

However the situation could be described, overall it was fucking fantastic.

But with the thought of fucking, Hanna was plagued with that whole did-they-or-did-they-not-have-sex thing, which the redhead could not recall. _Had_ they done it? Hanna racked his brain and came up with absolutely nothing. There were just colors and tastes and then going from warm, to hot, to cold and then back to being pleasantly warm again. It didn't make any sense and Hanna knew he had been drunk, but certainly he couldn't have been that drunk after only a few drinks…but then he recalled some of his shameless actions at the bar and changed his opinion quite quickly.

After that, fear that he'd been a raging whore suddenly sunk in and Hanna could only pray that he'd passed out before he could do something stupid.

Curiously, though a bit shyly, Hanna moved his arm, lightly allowing his palm to rest on the top of Alex's hand, letting his thumb smooth over his warm skin and knuckles. He knew it immediately: it was the hand that touched him so spectacularly in the storeroom; the same hand that had held his numerous times, which had the same fingers that had brushed against his before Hanna had even known his name. This simple touch quelled any fears that Hanna had worrying about _who_ slept beside him. Now, the only question was what had happened between them, because like hell he could recall any clear picture of the previous night beyond the flirting and the drinking…

Alex's finger twitched and he made a soft sound against Hanna's hair that was so adorable, the redhead couldn't help but smile.

He did not know if they'd had sex, because Hanna felt the same as he did yesterday—however virgins are supposed to feel versus non-virgins, anyway—but when he thought about it, he presumed he didn't really care if they _did_, he had just been hoping to remember his first time. It would have been nice, that was all, to have given it up in a more romantic manner-not like with candles and rose petals on silk sheets and shit like that, but you know, not in a state of pure intoxication and sloppiness-but Hanna knew it was real life and drunken encounters were common, so he tried not to be too disappointed, because, really, he wasn't disappointed…

Okay, so maybe he was. So sue him for that.

Slowly, Hanna moved beneath Alex's arm, turning over so that he could face his sleeping, well, what were they considered now? Hanna did not have a name for it, because the thought of labeling and losing was a little too much at the moment. Instead of pondering this question—which he'd been debating since they'd first kissed, because it wasn't high school so it wasn't like they had to be Facebook official dating, but seriously, what _were_ they? Friends with benefits or something else?—Hanna observed Alex quietly, contemplatively in the morning light. With their close proximity, Hanna did not need his glasses to take in every detail of the man beside him.

And, damn, what a view.

Seriously, Hanna could not figure out how he'd gotten such a guy. It seemed almost too good to be true; to the point where he worried that he might wake up and it was back to the Dark Ages of him being single in mid-October and Alexander Harper did not even know he existed. A twinge in his chest made his heart constrict at the thought, because then he wouldn't have had such an amazing first date, first kiss, first hand-holding-in-public, first desperate encounter at work, first near-sex-in-public, or first _anything_ for that matter.

The thought of never experiencing those things with Alex was just..._lonely_.

But because they had happened, Hanna could only thank his lucky stars—along with every other Lucky Charm, horseshoes and clovers and pots of gold definitely included—that he'd somehow managed to capture someone's interest. He was even luckier that the person who liked him was Alex, because not only was he hot, but he also happened to be kind and understanding on top of it all. It was kind of like being the most amazing burrito on the planet, because it was all the right flavors wrapped up into the perfect outer shell.

Hanna smiled again, despite his sudden craving for Mexican food.

Unaware of Hanna's semi-ridiculous, but genuinely adoring thoughts, Alex continued to sleep with his arm slung over the redhead's waist, breathing evenly against his pillow. It was amazing to see him in the current state, where Alex was vulnerable and open, sleeping with a small, upward tilt to his lift and eyebrows, as if content with whatever he was dreaming. Although he did not look that different from when he was awake, Hanna could pick up on the subtle changes; the little crease between his brows was smooth, because he wasn't thinking or worrying about something-what it could be, Hanna still had yet to find out, but he knew enough to be able to tell when something else preoccupied his thoughts-like usual and the tired look to his face had evened out to a more relaxed, rested expression. Hanna felt like he'd stumbled onto something fantastic, kind of like a treasure that he shouldn't have known about, but had discovered quite on accident. Because of this, Hanna was unable to still his hand, bringing it between them to gently trace his fingers over Alex's skin. He did not want to wake him, so it was just the smallest of caresses against the flesh, smoothing over the strong cheek and jaw, brushing over the little bit of stubble that adorned his chin, before continuing downwards along the slope of his neck, following to the shoulder and then the muscular upper arm. It was a slow, quiet journey where Hanna tried to commit every detail to memory so that he would not forget anything about that moment. It did not make up for the previous night, but Hanna did not mind. After all, whatever they had done, Hanna had certainly left his mark on Alex; a random pattern of love bites decorated his flesh, extending from below his ear to the dip of his collarbone.

That impressive collection was definitely something to be proud of.

But then it brought back the glaring question of simply what had happened, keeping Hanna's thoughts dashing around in a vicious, unending circle. He would feel dumb asking Alex about it, but pretending like nothing happened—or _something_ happened—could ruin a lot of things. Because of these risks, Hanna decided that he would try to be as tactful as possible—which would be as difficult as hell, because Hanna was anything _but_ tactful _all the time_—but maybe he would be able to do it.

Maybe.

Alex made another small sound in his sleep, almost like a sigh and Hanna smiled, watching his eyes move behind the lids as he dreamed. Because the morning was quiet and Hanna felt warm beside him and, hell, he'd never woken up in such an attractive person's bed before, the redhead supposed that it wouldn't be such a bad idea to enjoy it. Curling up against him, Hanna tucked himself further beneath Alex's arm, nuzzling into a comfortable position right below his chin. It put Hanna right against Alex's chest—bare chest, mind you, and very, very fine, by the way; super fine, in fact—which supplied a warm heat against Hanna's temple. He smelled like the mint and rum from his Mojito and a bit of smoke from the bar mingled in with an underlying scent of snow.

It was nice and in contrast, Hanna could only hope like he _didn't_ smell like the funky kid in gym class.

"Mn…Hanna…" Alex mumbled with soft, slightly sleep-slurred syllables. Just the way he said it was enough to make Hanna's heart nearly stop, in combination with the arm that moved a bit tighter around him. When it started to beat again, it was a rapid, almost stupidly fluttering tattoo, which made Hanna feel completely weak and ridiculously giddy. Was that amazing sensation what it was like to wake up next to your lover each morning?

"Hmn…?" was Hanna's unable-to-communicate-in-English reply.

"Wh'timeizzit?" he asked, and Hanna made a sound indicating he did not know. Alex's response was some murmured nonsense that came out in a tumbled, warm breath in Hanna's hair, which basically told Hanna he didn't care and that was okay with him. It was nice, he conceded, because lounging was pretty nice, especially when he was lying against such a warm—and bare and still very fine, by the way—chest, wrapped in a sleepy embrace that was cute as much as it was appreciated. Because the all-encompassing comfort was just too much and Alex's even breathing beneath his ear ended up a rhythmic lullaby, Hanna quite easily fell back asleep for the next few hours. He had a very vivid dream, in which he and Alex were at work, but no one else was there—workers, customers, anyone—so they were alone and it was kind of like the first night Hanna had tried to speak to the Sexy McTightpants for more than his customary mumbled greetings: the lights were low and Alex was behind the counter, cleaning up for the night to some soft instrumental music. When he saw Hanna, he smiled and stopped working to come into the cafe and greet him.

"Hey," he said, and before Hanna could reply, he was captured in one of those kisses that left him weakly clinging to the front of Alex's apron to remain standing upright. When they parted, Hanna was unable to stop grinning stupidly.

"Hey..." Hanna replied, once he'd gotten his lips back and could actually make them move properly. "A-Are you almost ready to go home?"

"In a few minutes," he answered, but the way he said it was not in the usual manner. There was something a bit more playful about it, sensual, almost, and, really, had the lights just gotten a bit lower? It seemed as if the cafe was mostly in shadow except for the soft bit of overhead illumination that shone down to where they stood. And then Alex looked at him with those eyes, which had turned slightly darker with something that Hanna could not name, but found very attractive.

"Er...do you need any help?" Hanna asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, but in an excited sort of way.

"No, I need you to take your clothes off," he replied, and Hanna's jaw nearly dislocated from his face and fell to the floor.

Say _what_ now?

"W-What?" Hanna eeped, thinking he'd misunderstood, somehow, which seemed impossible in the scope of things, because in all actuality, no other phrase in the world sounded like "I need you to take your clothes off". If there happened to be one, though, it probably wouldn't have made any sense, so Hanna was pretty damned sure he'd heard correctly, though did want to make one-hundred percent sure that he'd heard what he thought, because then it would be weird to just get naked for no reason. At work, too, which was just weird and hot all at the same time.

"Your clothes. Take them off," Alex replied, and there was something in his tone that told Hanna he had no other choice. That was another strange, yet very erotic occurrence, which had Hanna pulling his red shirt over his head with shaking arms at a rapid pace. Before he could even get to his pants, Alex was on top of him, effectively pushing Hanna back against one of the cafe tables and leaving no escape.

"U-Uh, what are we doing?" Hanna asked, though a well-executed tactic using a combination of tongue against his and Alex's fingers quickly undoing his belt were enough to answer that question. Shadows by The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble began playing over the speakers with a quiet, but sensual melody of strings and horns. It pretty much screamed seduction in every possible cliché way with the lighting and the music intended for semi-kinky fucking. Okay, maybe just flat out kinky. After all, they were in public and even though no one was there, someone could walk in at any moment—because that seemed to be happening a lot, Hanna recalled with some annoyance—which was actually kind of...

_Thrilling_.

"_Oh_..." was all Hanna could get out, his breathing becoming heavier as Alex moved from his lips down his body with those nips and kisses that just made Hanna _ache_. The light touch of fingertips followed, brushing over his chest to make his nipples so hard they almost hurt and—speaking of _hard_—Hanna's pants were chafing and uncomfortable due to his increasing desire. And _sweet baby Jesus in a manger_ that _tongue_ of his was just phenomenal, moving down over Hanna's skin, following the dip of his hipbone down south. He had no idea his pants were missing until Alex was _there_, looking up at him while he palmed and squeezed Hanna's cock to life with those syrupy, lusty eyes locked on his. And, oh_ shit, _when the tip of his tongue darted out to lick lightly over the head, it was so teasing and sexy and _hot_ that just made Hanna's pulsing need grow more intense. That desperation only increased tenfold as Alex lolled the bit of precum on his tongue before lapping up any residue that lingered on his lips.

He made a sound of approval at the taste and it almost made Hanna cum.

"Do you want me to, Hanna?" Alex asked huskily, and Hanna shakily had to lean back on his elbows to keep from collapsing right there just at the sight of such an expression of open arousal combined with the prospect of where _exactly_ Alex was going to put his mouth.

"Y-Yes...!" Hanna groaned out, and Alex, _fuckyesssss, _immediately went down on him like a deepthroating pro. It was hot and wet and Alex was using his tongue in that way Cosmo had said was a good technique-which Hanna could now second to the millionth degree-and that in combination of everything else made Hanna cling to the table to keep from finishing right there. Everything was so good, in fact, that Hanna could only get out breathy, whimpered moans and groans, unable to say anything beyond an encouraging _yes_ and Alex's name—while moving his hands from the table in order to clutch at Alex's hair, trying not to grip too hard despite the impulse to just hold on with all his strength—in an attempt to get him to just finish him off.

"_Ah_..."

"Hanna..."

"Mnn..."

"Hanna..."

"_Alex_."

"Hanna...?"

It took him a moment to realize that it was quite impossible for Alex to be sucking him off while at the same time speaking, and just when Hanna arrived at this logical conclusion, the seductive scene faded away, and he was back in bed, very close to the same person he'd been imagining. Beside him, Alex looked sleep tousled and rather delectable with his eyes half-lidded like they were and the quirk of a smile on his lips.

"Having good dreams?" Alex asked and that simple question made Hanna's face heat up with embarrassment. He had erotic dreams from time to time—okay, so maybe it was more often than not because he was horny _all the time_, but that was beside the point—but never when he was lying next to someone else. Especially when that someone else happened to be the person who had been doing such amazingly-dirty-and-sexy things to Hanna in his dream.

And to make things better, Hanna was hard and it was completely evident and obvious, which was definitely not awesome in any way shape or form.

"I-I..." Hanna tried, but he couldn't think of an excuse fast enough and that made him want to sink into the sheets and never be seen again. He wished that he could not suck around Alex—though actually sucking him off was something that Hanna wouldn't mind trying, which was not helping the erection, in case anyone was wondering—and be cool, but, _dammit_, he could never achieve that feat. Feeling shameful and a bit guilty, Hanna curled in on himself and turned his eyes away from Alex's face to murmur a quietly honest: "Yes…"

"I hope you were dreaming of me," he said, with amusement in his voice. Hanna felt his cheeks turn redder with embarrassment at the thought of Alex discovering what he had been dreaming. But apparently his silence was mistaken for something else, because he added: "Well, if you weren't, it's no big deal."

"I was…" Hanna replied quietly. His entire body shivered when Alex gently traced his fingers downwards along his back. When they slid up again, his fingertips brushed lightly over Hanna's bare skin as his shirt rode up with the movement. That simple motion sent trembles of desire through him and made Hanna's cock dig a bit harder into Alex's thigh.

"Really?" Alex asked, even though it was apparent that he already knew the answer to his question before he had even inquired. "That's kind of hot." Hanna only managed to make a small sound in response, due to the fact that the fingers against his spine had turned into a hot palm traveling over his ribs, following the slope of his waist to his hip and then lightly over the fabric of Hanna's boxers like—

"Ngh…" Hanna whimpered against Alex's throat when those fingers brushed over his straining erection in the most teasing of ways. His hips bucked against Alex's hand, craving more of his touch, even though it was kind of embarrassing that he was already so wound up at such an early hour, especially after whatever-might-have-possibly-happened last night because that should have sated his sexual appetite.

Right?

Alex gave Hanna what he wanted and it made the redhead bite at the corner of his own lip to keep quiet. His fingers clutched at Alex's shoulder, nails digging into his skin as that hand moved below the waistband of his boxers and took hold of him and it was just _unfsoeffingawesome_ that Hanna could not keep a moan from escaping him.

"Feel good?" he asked, and _gods_, when he turned his wrist, it felt even better than before so that Hanna could not even control the way his body writhed and trembled with the action. It was almost like he'd been possessed by the heat and rushes of pure euphoria brought on by the semi-rough pads on Alex's hand. Hanna panted against his neck as the hand sped up, knowing exactly when to twist and squeeze to keep his mind in a state of unadulterated pleasure. His cock throbbed, aching in time with those not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow strokes to his erection. And man, that burning in the pit of his stomach was almost too much to bear, flaring up with greater intensity when the strokes got closer to the head, shorter, faster, _harder_, and Hanna felt like he was about to fall right over the edge—

"_Gnee_!" Hanna cried out softly, shaking uncontrollably as he came into Alex's hand, which continued to stroke him until he was completely drained. When he was through, Hanna was left weak and shivering and sticky—but quite relieved, and through the best possible means—as he tried to come down from his high, breathing heavily against Alex's chest.

"Better?" Alex asked, and Hanna felt him press a gentle kiss to his temple. Even though Hanna did not have his eyes open, he knew that Alex was smiling, which made him smile too.

"Mmn…" Hanna replied, because every part of him just felt like jelly after that, his tongue especially. Even afterward, his heart still beat rapidly, but it calmed over the next few minutes of just breathing while relishing in the light kisses to his hair and forehead. Even though he was flushed and slightly sticky from the affection, Hanna was very pleased and made another appreciative sound to show this.

"I guess that's a yes," Alex said, and Hanna let out a small, disappointed sigh when he removed his hand from his boxers. The motion brought awareness that made the redhead instantly feel guilty, because he realized that he'd once again gotten off when Alex hadn't, which was completely unfair and yes, Hanna did suck at the whole being-a-good-boyfriend thing.

"S-Sorry…" Hanna murmured quietly when he could speak again, nose brushing the underside of Alex's jaw as he tilted his head to look up at him.

"For what?" Alex asked, and his expression was definitely confused at the apology. His heart picked right back up at its frantic pace and once again, Hanna found himself trying not to absolutely lose his mind. He was in bed—in _bed_—with Alex and no recollection of last night and to top it off he'd just been given another stellar hand-job, which had effectively turned his brain to pure mush. However, his brain was not mushy enough to keep him from panicking, which he began to feel creeping into his conscious thoughts. It was back to that racetrack where his thoughts chased each other with continuous questions and no answers.

"For not, er, you know, now, I mean unless, um, last night?" Hanna tried, but had been reduced to only being able to produce words which had no clear links between them. He was relying on the fact that Alex knew what he wanted to say even when he couldn't, hoping that he'd be able to figure it out so that Hanna did not have to struggle with tactless inquiries.

"We didn't do anything last night, if that's what you mean," Alex replied, and Hanna wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. He didn't know what expression he made at the response, but whatever it was, it made Alex smile and kiss his lips gently. "We were both pretty drunk, so we really just went to bed…"

"Oh," Hanna replied, smiling with a bit more shyness than he wanted to show, but Alex's fingers were moving through his hair and the motion just left him feeling warm and silly and _good_.

"Besides, I want to remember it, don't you?" he added.

"Yeah, I really do," Hanna said honestly, and finally registered relief at the answer, his tense shoulders relaxing. The most they had done was make out—as obvious from those lovely little marks that Hanna definitely liked on Alex's neck—which meant he was still virginal—which was _eh_ but maybe he had a chance at remedying that soon—but at least Hanna knew he hadn't missed out on anything good. Maybe there was hope for something a bit more memorable in the future. However, the current situation brought back to light the reason for Hanna's now-relevant apology. Hanna's smile turned a bit sheepish. "I-I guess I owe you two, then…"

"Well, you can bring that down to one, so long as I can cash in my first rain check now," Alex replied, and his eyes were that hue he had seen in his dream, all dark with lust that just made Hanna's mouth go dry. Because Hanna had been stunned so thoroughly by these words, his trembling hand had to be guided by a larger, slightly sticky palm. His fingers made Hanna's move, smoothing over the lean muscles of Alex's chest and stomach-which Hanna found to be as firm as he'd imagined-down along the contours of his body until he reached the defined slope of his hipbone. Hanna followed the dip that disappeared beneath the waistband of his loose pair of sweats, where Hanna's fingers brushed over a bit of rough hair and then—

Hanna's only semi-coherent thought was _ohmigodit'sacock._

Because his previous relationships were nonexistent, Hanna had only touched himself before and had little experience with anything having to do with sex. Due to this inexperience, he had no established technique and no idea what someone else would even _like_ to have done to them. Sure, Hanna knew what he liked—and apparently Alex had figured it out already because his total of two orgasms were even more mind-blowing than anything he'd experienced_ in his life_—but what if Alex preferred something different? With all of this in his mind, Hanna hoped that he would not fuck up, because fucking up would not be good, especially as it happened to be the first time he was touching another guy's cock and, _jeez_, it was hotter than he imagined; so hot that Hanna could barely stand it. When Alex moved Hanna's fingers around him, the redhead thought that it felt almost unreal. Truly, it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he was touching Alex and that Hanna was one responsible for such a _large_ reaction. Shoe sizes did not lie, apparently, because as Alex guided his hand along the length of his erection, _damn_, Hanna was nothing but impressed.

And horny.

{Again.}

"That's it…" Alex said, and his husky voice was encouraging as he moved his hand over Hanna's to teach him by example. He was patiently silent and in no way condescending at Hanna's nervous lack of experience, showing exactly how he liked it; when to go faster or slower, squeeze or stroke, and Hanna desperately tried committing that to memory so that he could recall these tips for a later date. Apparently this enthusiasm was welcomed and because of his studiousness, Alex's hand eventually fell away from Hanna's and he found himself running solo. He utilized everything that Alex had shown him, even down to the right amount of pressure to apply to the head and every slight turn of the wrist to make the experience pleasurable.

When Hanna glanced up, he knew he was doing well.

After their romp in the storeroom, Hanna had learned one important piece of information: that someone else touching you would always trump touching yourself. In the current moment, he learned a second bit of knowledge: you didn't know pleasure until you saw someone's expression while you were pleasing _them_. Hanna had been right when he presumed Alex's face would be a sight when he came, but the redhead had no idea that the build up to that event would be just as arousing. The color he had been unable to see in the darkness of the cafe's back room and the dim lighting in the club was suddenly visible and Hanna found himself captivated by the flushed countenance before him. In addition to that gentle hue, Alex's eyes were almost closed because of the sensations Hanna's hand brought him, but open just enough so that Hanna could see two citrine crescents below his lashes. It made Hanna forget how to fucking _breathe_ in a span of a second, his hand stilling only momentarily before continuing.

He had no idea how long they were engaged, because Hanna had been entranced by the different expressions Alex made as he neared completion. The redhead found himself amazed by the manner in which he could make someone tremble with want for him, unable to blink as Alex panted in an attempt to hold on a little longer. It could have been hours or minutes or even seconds, but that was irrelevant, because when Alex came, hot and hard against his hand, he released a small, keening sound that was one of the hottest things Hanna had _ever heard_. In fact, he almost orgasmed again just hearing it, but managed to control himself.

{But only barely.}

"Was that...o-okay?" Hanna asked hesitantly, because Alex had not said a word yet, but his response was a sleepy smile and a pleased face that told Hanna everything he wanted to know. So, the rundown: he'd just given his first ever hand-job and Alex had liked it and, _fuck_, just seeing him cum that that expression—with his eyes closed and jaw clenched and his cheeks flushed like _sweet Jesus—_was more erotic than any dream and all of the gay porn on the internet combined. And, yeah, even though his hand was wet and his stomach kind of sticky and Hanna was horny again, everything was just _epic_.

And it was then that Hanna learned the most important thing of all about all the relationship business when it came to sex. It was terrifyingly amazing and awesome, there was no doubt about that, but when it really came down to it all, it was really just about him and Alex and no one else. Just the two of them with a wonderful something between them.

Because it wasn't about giving or taking or owing at all, it was about sharing.

**pqpq**

"Heya, skank."

That was Toni's cheerful greeting when Hanna walked into the back room of the store that afternoon. She even stopped counting inventory to pointedly say this to him, cerulean lips turned upward in a smirk like the cat who caught the canary.

Or in this case, the cat-who-had-caught-the-Hanna-coming-to-work-an-hour-late.

"I'm not a skank," Hanna replied in a return greeting, picking up that day's assignment, reading the information with a determinedly fake interest in an attempt to control his blush. He had never been late before, well, at least by an hour, but—after an enjoyable morning in bed, followed by the first warm shower Hanna had been able to take in weeks since the hot water heater broke in his own apartment—he had been forced to make Alex swing by his place in order to get his uniform. In the end, Alex was an hour early to work and Hanna was an hour late, but he didn't tell him this fact, because, yes, he did want to sleep over again and did not want to be denied this pleasure, as he just _knew_ Alex would say he could not stay over if it meant that he would get in trouble at work. And did he mention how much he wanted to sleep over again? Because, really, Hanna wanted nothing more than that.

Even a raise would not compare with spending another night in Alex's bed.

"You're a _skank_," she said again, and her tone was gossipy, teasing in the way that girls use among themselves when they're accusing someone in their group of being awesome and not sharing with the rest. "You went home with Hotpants Harper, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't," Hanna answered, and his response made Toni come up to him with a serious look in her eye. She jabbed him in the chest with her clipboard. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"What did I tell you about lying to your friends?" she asked, now like a mother trying to teach her rebellious child a lesson.

"I'm not..." Hanna replied.

"You are. For one, you're a bad liar. And two, I _totally_ saw your car parked out front this morning _in the same place_ you left it yesterday," Toni explained and Hanna felt embarrassment creeping in faster than water through a broken levee.

"Uh, er, I can explain..." Hanna began.

"Save it, I've got it," she said, and leaned in closer, switching back into teenage girl mode. Her eyebrow was raised slightly and her grin was almost unbearable. "_Soooo?_"

"S-So what?" Hanna asked.

"Did you, _you know_?" Toni asked, and thrust her clipboard into his chest again. Hanna rubbed at the offended spot with a bit of a wince. She could certainly be rough when she wanted to be.

"N-No, we didn't," he said.

"Really?" she asked, and narrowed her eyes, as if trying to discern whether or not he was lying.

"Yeah, really," Hanna answered.

She frowned and flicked him in the forehead.

"Why the _fuck_ not?" she growled.

"Well, we were both kind of drunk..." Hanna admitted, rubbing at his forehead. At the end of his shift, he was going to be all bruised up at this rate.

"According to Conrad, you were _tanked_," Toni replied and Hanna felt a bit offended by the term. But then he remembered his sort of black-out experience and felt that offense fade away.

"Er, okay..." Hanna said. "Maybe I was really drunk."

"Speaking of being really drunk, Conrad nearly put himself into a coma after he got away from that hooker. Do you remember that at least? Because it was kind of _really _hilarious," Toni said, getting a bit off tangent, but still, it made Hanna nearly drop his assignment in surprise.

"Wait. What's this about Connie and a hooker?" Hanna replied, thinking perhaps he'd misunderstood.

"Never mind, it's not important," Toni said, waving it off. "The point is that Conrad told us that you were so drunk, Alex had to carry you to the car."

"Awesome..." Hanna mumbled to himself, turning away from her in an attempt to save some face. He usually was not such a lightweight, but apparently too much flirting and not enough dinner had left him weak and unable to handle alcohol.

"So, you can't tell me that you didn't do _something_," Toni sang from behind him.

"Well, not last night..." Hanna said, before he could stop himself.

"_Ohmygod_. Did you have hot morning sex?" she asked, and she was in front of Hanna again, looking so excited for him that it was slightly disconcerting.

"W-Why do you keep asking me all these questions?" Hanna asked defensively.

"Because two guys together is a big turn on for me," Toni answered honestly.

Hanna thought he'd never stop blushing.

"So, morning sex?"

"Er..."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I'd rather not."

"Hmm..."

Toni made a thoughtful noise, before her smirk returned.

"You're still a virgin, then?" she said for clarification. She looked nothing but entertained at Hanna's momentary silence.

"Shut up, Toni..." Hanna mumbled eventually, trying to walk around her to get to work, but she blocked his path.

"Should I call you Cherry?" Toni asked, and her grin widened.

"Damn you, Toni. Why are we always talking about this?" Hanna asked.

"Because it's so cute how embarrassed you get," Toni replied, and pinched his cheek. Hanna swatted her hand away, blushing. "Daw, you guys are so adorable. I'm kind of jealous. Did he make you breakfast too?"

When Hanna didn't answer, she slapped his arm.

"No _way_. He made you _breakfast_?" Toni gasped. Hanna just smiled.

"Pancakes," Hanna said.

"He made you _pancakes_?" Toni repeated.

"Chocolate chip pancakes," he clarified.

"Oh, boy, he loves you," Toni said, and then laughed as she put her clipboard under her arm and returned to work. "It's so effing cute, I actually want to vomit a little."

**pqpq**

"You know what sucks?"

It was the introduction to an unknowable topic a day later at lunch, when Veser had come up to the second floor to bother Hanna and Toni during their break. She was currently sitting on his lap in the small chair across from the redhead, munching on the remains of some strange sort of salad with strings on it—"They're sprouts, Hanna, don't have a fit," Toni had informed him—and Hanna still could not think they were cute in any way, but whatever.

"I can think of a lot of things that suck," Toni replied to Veser's rhetorical question. She looked pointedly at Hanna, who found the railing next to him quite interesting in the course of five seconds. Although he hadn't done any sucking recently—of any kind, most unfortunately, because he'd gone home last night, to his own bed and quite alone, which was not as nice as sharing it with someone else—Hanna was still embarrassed by some of Toni's insinuations. Apparently, pancakes equated a good blow job in her opinion, because she'd been all grins and giggles since yesterday.

"The _holidays_," Veser said.

"That's one of them," Toni replied.

"This place is going to be a fucking zoo on Friday. You know that, right?" Veser said, just in case they were not aware. Black Friday happened to be the worst day ever, all the time, even compared to the day after Christmas, which was when all the so-called sales went on. But Black Friday trumped every other day on the calendar because people just went absolutely bat shit insane. And they were mean, without a doubt, which was like acidic icing on an already tart cake.

"I'm working a double too, it's going to be awesome," Toni replied, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"Me too," Hanna said, a bit glumly.

"Me three. It's going to steal my fucking soul," Veser said. He looked a little deflated and tired and maybe it was a trick of light, but the area around his right eye looked a lot darker than the other. Did he have a healing black eye? It kind of looked like he'd concealed it with the same substance that Hanna had purchased at the pharmacy last night on his way home so that he could cover up all those little marks that Alex conveniently tended to leave on the exposed areas of his neck. Hanna knew that the make up was useful in keeping people from seeing what you wanted to hide—such as love bites, for example—and Hanna recalled Alex speaking vaguely of Veser's bad home life. Could it be what Hanna thought, or was he just imagining things?

Veser's continued rant brought Hanna back to the present.

"And I swear to God, if Tibe-snob is going to bitch _even in the slightest _tomorrow, I'm going to take that _fucking_ watch and shove it right up his—"

He stopped mid-sentence, Toni in mid-chew, and Hanna in mid-Cheeto-to-his-mouth as a quiet _tick tick tick tock tick tock_ came closer to them.

"It's...a mysterious ticking noise," Toni said, and she looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

"You know, Ron Weasley figured out it was a pipe bomb," Hanna pointed out in a hushed whisper, because the sound came from a manager—with the watch that Veser wanted to forcibly insert into his anus—who currently stalked throughout the stacks, as if he were looking for something to put back in order. When he came into sight, Hanna slumped slightly in his chair, hoping that Mr. Tibenoch would not see him. But it was hard not to see Hanna's red hair and crimson shirt and, dammit, why was it that he always seemed to be a fucking target for any person with a scrap of authority? Tibenoch's determined footsteps strode to their lunch area, stopping beside the coffee table covered in their plastic packaging and half-full cans of warm soda.

"What is the meaning of this public philandering?" he inquired with his needlessly advanced form of vocabulary. His nose looked longer every time Hanna saw him, which increased Hanna's dislike for him for no apparent reason at all. It was just annoying, like his grating voice and the loud ticking of his watch. Hanna gave props to Veser and Alex for being able to stand it.

Toni came to the rescue before anything offensive could be said.

"We're not philandering, sir, we're eating lunch," Toni replied, in her I'm-a-girl-and-thereby-sweeter-than-these-two-idiot-boys tone of voice. It was better than Hanna speaking his mind and certainly _always_ better that Veser pretended to be mute, lest have to be concerned with a lawsuit because of that uncontrollable mouth of his.

"Eating lunch, you say?" he repeated, and made it sound as if she had given the incorrect answer. "And may I inquire as to what the three of you are doing up here in a public area when there is a perfectly suitable break room downstairs for employees?"

"We like the atmosphere, sir," Toni replied.

"Do you really?" Mr. Tibenoch asked, and he gave her that same, observatory stare that he had bestowed upon Hanna when they first met. The redhead was definitely thinking that the man was a machine, because he stood up too straight and spoke with perfectly correct grammar and had the creepiest, unblinking gaze ever. Toni must have felt this too, because she squirmed a bit, as if uncomfortable. Hanna saw Veser's hand move to the small of her back, as if to console her wordlessly, which, okay, was kind of nice, but he still wasn't sure if he sailed their ship or not.

"Um, yes, we do," Toni answered, when he'd been quiet for too long.

"And tell me, Ms—" His eyes went to her name tag quickly before continuing: "—Ipres, is there a chair shortage?"

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Is there a shortage of chairs in this lounge area?" he reiterated for her. Around them, there were a few people sitting down, breezing through books, but there were plenty of open seats. It took Hanna a moment to understand exactly what he was trying to get at and wondered how Toni would handle herself.

"No, but if we need more chairs up here, you'll have to speak to general management and inventory," Toni replied formally, as if she had taken his suggestion to heart. "Maybe they can order a few more."

"Ms. Ipres, you seem to misunderstand my meaning. I am, of course, referring to the manner in which you are not situated on a chair, but instead, sitting upon Mr. Hatch, which is clearly a breach of, not only the company's Public Displays of Affection clause, but also quite adamantly opposing the interpersonal relationship policy that we maintain," he answered, and it was rather revolting how easily he produced the long winded explanation.

Hanna thought he'd probably shit a brick if he knew that Alex still made sure to supply him with free coffee as a token of his affection.

"In other words, you're telling me to go to the break room and pretend like my boyfriend doesn't exist," Toni said, her tone challenging, slightly strained to maintain some sort of control over the annoyance that boiled beneath her words.

"Precisely. That shouldn't be too difficult, should it?" Mr. Tibenoch said, and made a shooing motion with his hands. He did not make to leave until they stood up and begrudgingly cleared away the remains of their lunch. Walking down the stairs towards the employee break room, Veser mumbled under his breath.

"You know what sucks more than Black Friday?"

"That guy?" Hanna suggested darkly.

"Yeah, that guy. I'm about ready to take Confag's advice and throw him down the fucking stairs," Veser said. But unless it was into a vat of lava, Hanna doubted that the Terminator could be effectively destroyed.

He had a feeling Sarah Conner would agree.

**pqpq**

Derpderp, second part will be posted later tonight/tomorrow. Sorry for the delay on this, BTW. Work was a bitch and I was kind of sick all week (which accounted for some loving on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, hence the amazing chair shortage quote of awesome in there that will probably only entertain me XDD). I was seriously going to post yesterday, but I found that it's a really bad idea to post when you're not sober, lulz. More coming your way soon~!

**Dhampir72**


	6. Cinnamon

A/N: Here's part two. More Hanna/{...} lovin' inside. Sorry about my whole thinking-about-taking-this-down thing. I'm dealing with parents who tell me that I'm not going to be a writer ever and that I should give up, then I hear around the fandom that I'm a trashy writer and it kind of just made me feel like I sucked. But you know what, as you all said, hater's gonna hate—my parents included apparently—and you know, I haven't had this much fun writing something in a long time. Even if I have only one reviewer and an army of angry people, I actually plan to finish this. Much love to everyone for their kind words and support; it definitely helped to drown out the negativity surrounding me.

**pqpq**

Hanna felt kind of awkward.

When the three of them walked into the break room—which was boring and white and overall suffocating compared with the usual spot on the second floor, so a big fat thanks to Mr. Cuntface Tibenoch for making them move—there were a bunch of people there that Hanna worked with, but never associated with during his entire time working at the store. They looked at him and Toni with suspicion, because they _never_ ate in the break room—most likely due to the judging that took place— but eventually they went back to their mindless activities, blissfully ignoring their presence. One girl was doing a crossword puzzle, or pretending to do one, because it seemed to Hanna like she was too busy checking out the boys at the table next to her. Said two guys were watching an episode of Entourage on an open laptop, and Hanna vaguely recognized them as the two bros—you know, the types who greeted each other "'sup, bro?" wherein the other would reply "Not much, bro" and on some days Hanna noted that their painfully expensive Hollister jeans would match hideously—who usually worked the register. Vicky—who was apparently actually working instead of flaking out like usual—sat in the corner with her girlfriend. They were speaking in low voices, probably reciting gothic Sylvia Plath poetry to one another or some creepy shit like that. _Lesbians_ Hanna could only think, and steered clear from them. Just when it was looking to be a rather disappointing lunch break, Hanna spotted two familiar faces in the corner behind the water cooler.

"Hey, guys, mind if we sit here?" Toni asked, and without waiting for an invite, took one of the open chairs at the circular table, where Alex and Conrad were seated. Apparently, they hadn't been doing very much talking because Alex was reading a paperback novel and Conrad was busy doodling in a small moleskin sketchbook. According to Veser, Connie was still little angry about the whole no-one-bothering-to-save-him-from-the-hooker-with-the-big-boyfriend fiasco and did not want to talk to them about it or anything else for that matter. But because Connie only pretended like he could hold a grudge, Hanna doubted his silence would last.

"What's up?" Alex asked, as he pulled up a chair from the empty table behind theirs so that Hanna could sit beside him. The redhead took it, scooting it a bit closer to him to make room for Veser to squeeze in with them. Conrad quickly shut his sketchbook when Toni tried to peek inside of it, a flushed color to his cheeks.

{"Are you drawing porn or something?" she asked and Conrad's response was an unintelligible jumble of negative phrases that basically meant _yes_ in every possible way.}

"We got banished from upstairs," Hanna explained.

"Your manager is on a manhunt for rule breakers and hell raisers," Toni supplied unnecessarily.

"Speaking of breaking, I'd sure like to break _him_," Veser said, and cracked his knuckles. "Man, punching him in the face sounds fucking _awesome_."

"Well, he was just down here, lecturing us," Alex added with a shrug, not commenting on Veser's obsession with wanting to break shit. "I'm not sure what he was talking about, because I stopped listening."

"If you just nod in all the right places, he seems to not freak the fuck out," Conrad said helpfully.

"Or, if he freaks the fuck out, I can punch him in the face?" Veser suggested.

"You have a one-track mind, don't you, kid?" Conrad asked.

"Oh, Confags, you're just jealous because I'm so awesome," Veser said.

"The fuck I am," was Conrad's reply. "And don't call me that, you little fucker, I'll push _you_ down a flight of stairs after I'm done with Tibebitch."

"Oh, it's _on_," Veser said, and they began a slight bickering match where Toni played ref to make sure they—well, Veser mainly—didn't start anything. While they traded creative insults and swears, Hanna reached for Alex's hand beneath the table. It was a shy, kind of hesitant gesture, where Hanna's fingers brushed the back of Alex's hand with the silent request. He watched as a smile formed on Alex's lips, making him even more attractive—if possible, because Hanna thought he'd maxed out the scale a long time ago—than ever. His fingers curled around Hanna's in response, resting their clasped hands on top of Alex's knee. Not even Veser and Conrad's pointless bitching could infringe upon the nothing-less-than joyous feeling Hanna experienced at that moment, which was saying something. Man, had Hanna mentioned before how awesome it was to be dating and not living the life of a miserable single?

If he hadn't, just to establish this, it was _fucking awesome_.

"_So_, what's everyone doing for the holidays?" Toni asked, after she'd gotten the two to shut up and play nicely. Her question, however, did not lighten the atmosphere, but instead made it rather heavy. Everyone's expressions had gone rather dark at the mention of Thanksgiving on that upcoming Thursday. Even Hanna could not muster up a response, because it felt like his tongue had turned to lead; beside him, Alex looked as if he felt the same way. That oppressive air only increased when she added: "Er...anyone going home to see family?"

A quiet chorus of the negative was returned to her.

"C'mon, Toni, you know my parents hate each other," Veser said, and although he was trying to make it sound funny, it came across somewhat _sad_. Hanna wondered about the darkness around his eye, which was more apparent under the florescent lights. Surely his parents weren't _abusive_, right? Hanna didn't know and it was not right to ask. Maybe everyone else was thinking about it too, because his tone did not go unnoticed by the rest of the group, who then slowly, begrudgingly began to answer her as well with similar stories of familial hatred.

"I really don't give a shit what they're doing. Everyone in my family is an asshole," was Conrad's response, though he looked down at the table when he said it, fingers pulling at the band around his sketchbook that expressed everything opposite of what he said. Even Veser did not reply with the words Hanna knew he had to be thinking—something along the lines of _Oh, it runs in the family, then?—_which was a rare moment indeed. Maybe he wasn't as insensitive as Hanna thought. "Fuck 'em," he added for good measure, when no one said anything else, but it seemed halfhearted to Hanna.

"My family disowned me when I finished high school," Alex said, and even though he was trying to sound like he didn't care, Hanna could hear a raw sort of hurt beneath the nonchalance. Maybe no one else noticed, but Hanna did, and he tightened his fingers around Alex's hand in a private gesture of comfort.

"That blows. Was it for being queer?" Veser asked. Toni slapped his arm with a look that told him his choice of words wasn't helpful, but Alex must have been immune to Veser's attitude from working with him, because he didn't look offended at all.

"Yeah, I guess an honors diploma didn't mean much to them after their son went to prom with another guy," Alex responded with a shrug.

"Rough," Veser said and Alex shrugged again, but Hanna could feel him nervously brushing his thumb over the back of his hand which told the redhead that he wanted to change the subject. Hanna didn't blame him. He didn't like where the conversation was going at all...

Toni came to the rescue, but it wasn't a complete topic change like Hanna had hoped.

"Don't feel bad, my parents kicked me out too," Toni said, and everyone looked at her—Hanna included—in disbelief. Happy and ever-cheerful Toni had been thrown out of her house? For some reason, Hanna had always pictured her coming from a large, loving family because her personality did not suggest anything otherwise. Hanna supposed that was what he got for assuming and kind of felt like an asshole for it. Maybe all her meddling and—on some level, _mothering—_was because of her lack of that contact with her own family.

"Well, we know it wasn't because you're gay," Alex said in an attempt to be funny, but Toni was the only one who laughed.

"I could be half-gay, you never know," Toni replied, and her expression had lightened the tone, especially when the corner of her lip turned upward in jest. It definitely helped with the mood somewhat, because Veser's semi-downcast expression brightened as he grinned.

"You'd get it on with another girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Toni replied and Veser looked like he was just going to pop a boner thinking about it. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with a bit of advice: "Don't jizz in your pants, Veser."

"So, are you going to tell us what the fuck happened or are we guessing?" Conrad asked, with his usually impatient and annoyed voice.

"Gee, Connie, didn't know you cared so much," Toni replied, and leaned across the table to pinch his cheek. He didn't move fast enough and got caught in her clutches, making Hanna wince in sympathy. Having been the victim of that hold before, Hanna knew how much it could hurt.

"Le'mego," Conrad said, not able to form the syllables correctly with half his mouth in her grasp. Toni released him and sat back down in her seat as Conrad rubbed at the offended area with his fingers.

"Well, my family basically said I couldn't come home unless I made it big," Toni said. "They wanted me to be a pharmacist, but fuck that. I wanted to be an artist. You know: do theatre, write something, paint or some shit like that. When I told them I wouldn't go to college to spend the rest of my life rich, but unhappy, they said to leave, so I did. The only way I'm going home is if I'm famous. We'll see how that goes. I have some auditions lined up next month, so who knows. Maybe I'll be on T.V."

"I wouldn't go back," Conrad said, and he was still snapping the band around his sketchbook. "Even if you do end up on T.V."

"Neither would I. No fucking way," Veser added and his arm was around the back of Toni's chair. Okay, Hanna decided, maybe the whole Veser and Toni thing was okay. He seemed to only be understanding of her, even if that meant he did not extend that courtesy to anyone else.

"I really only want to go back to see my brother and sister," Toni said, and there was no trace of a smile in her voice or in her expression when she said it. "They were in middle school when I left a few years ago. I don't know what my parents told them, but I can only hope they don't hate me when they grow up, you know?"

"You'll see them again," Hanna said, because he did believe that Toni—ever-resourceful and never wavering Toni—would find a way to see them again. However, speaking up had been like stepping into a field of landmines and Hanna felt more than a bit uncomfortable when everyone's attention turned to him, as he'd been silent for the majority of their quiet conversation.

"Thanks, but you're not here to play psychiatrist for everyone else," Toni replied, and her usual smile had returned. "So, what's your sad story, Red?"

"Er, well, um..." Hanna began, but did not know how to start. Everyone was watching him, waiting to hear his response. It was a wound that Hanna didn't want to acknowledge, because it was better to not think about it. The less he thought about it, the less it hurt, and as the years passed, Hanna had been relieved to find that, so long as he did not revisit _that day_, the holidays were miserable, but bearable. He wanted to keep quiet, but there were too many people waiting and Alex's hand was warm, indicating silently that he wanted to know and understand. That gave Hanna the strength to say quietly, blue eyes on the lip of the table: "Both of my parents died when I was 9."

Even without looking up, Hanna could almost feel Toni's smile fall and knew that Veser's too-big eyes widened at the revelation. Across the table from Hanna, Conrad had stopped fiddling with the band of his sketchpad, throwing their corner into an uneasy quiet. Hanna did not look at Alex, because he did not want to know what he would find in his expression. The last thing he wanted from anyone was pity.

"Uh, so, yeah," Hanna added lamely, when no one else said anything at all. He tried to use his usual, cheerful voice, but it cracked towards the end and sounded _broken_ so Hanna kept his eyes down. Beneath the table, Alex gave his hand a squeeze similar to the one Hanna had given him earlier for comfort. Just that action definitely made Hanna feel a little better, but only slightly.

"I guess we're all kind of fucked up then, huh?" Conrad said eventually, when no one asked anything else of Hanna—and he was so relieved, because talking about it was something he had never done and did not want to do any time soon—and after they'd lapsed into an uneasy silence again. He resumed fiddling with the band again, filling the void with sound. Hanna did not relinquish his hold on Alex's hand, if anything holding on a bit tighter in apprehension. In fear of losing something else that was precious to him. Alex resumed the previous motion with his thumb against the back of Hanna's hand, but this time it was not in nervousness and instead in consolidation, which calmed the redhead down considerably.

"Guess so," Toni conceded, after another moment. But then she smiled and tried to cheer everyone up with a bright: "Well, hey, we all have each other, right?"

They all looked at her like she was crazy.

"Oh, c'mon guys," she said. "Rejects like us have to stay together."

"You're great at this whole motivational speaking thing," Conrad informed her.

"Bite me," Toni replied sweetly.

"_That's_ kinky," Veser said; he and Toni shared a look that lasted way too long and had too much grinning to be anything but perverted. Conrad coughed to bring them back to the present.

"_Any_way," Toni continued, clearing her throat as she folded her hands on the table. "I think we should celebrate the holidays together."

"Huh," was all Hanna could get out.

"Sounds lame," Veser said, bored.

"I'm kinda busy," Conrad put in.

"Oh, shut up everyone," Toni said, and looked at each one of them with a sort of pleading gaze. "C'mon. Let's at least have dinner."

"And drink," Veser said. Conrad looked at him suspiciously.

"How old are you again?" he asked.

"Old enough, Confags, don't worry about it," Veser replied. Beside Hanna, Alex raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Oh, come on. What's a holiday without booze?"

"Easter," Conrad replied.

"Hey. Jesus gave people wine," Veser said, as if it made a difference.

"People, seriously," Toni cut in. When everyone quieted she continued: "Maybe we should go to a nice restaurant or something."

"What the fuck's going to be open on Thanksgiving?" Veser asked, flinching away from the pinch that Toni aimed at his upper arm.

"Okay, maybe we should cook dinner then," Toni suggested.

Their table got so quiet that Hanna thought he might have heard crickets chirping.

"I can't even turn on the oven," Veser replied.

"I ruin cereal," supplied Conrad.

"I burned Mac and Cheese once," Hanna added, and Toni looked at him. The redhead shrugged. "I forgot it was on the stove."

"That's pathetic, Hanna," Toni said.

"Connie ruins _cereal_," Hanna replied, and even went so far as to point at the bespectacled man.

"Okay, you have a point," Toni said, and fixed Conrad with the Jeezus-you're-absolutely-pathetic stare.

"_What_?" Conrad asked.

"What do you mean _what_? How the hell do you fuck up cereal?" Toni asked and Conrad looked like he was about to explain when suddenly, there was a Veser who spoke.

"Wait, wait, wait. Let's hold the fucking phone here," he said and slammed his palms down on the table. He looked absolutely serious when he said: "We're missing something very important." Everyone leaned forward to hear what he had to say, and he looked at each one of them as if about to explain some unknown and heavily guarded secret. That secret was revealed when his pointer finger thrust out, gesturing directly at Alex as he declared: "He's a chef."

Everyone's heads swiveled in Alex's direction.

"You're a chef?" Toni asked, and looked from Hanna to Alex and then back to Hanna again, as if looking for him to tell her the truth.

"I'm not really a chef," Alex replied.

"Why'd he say you're a chef, then?" Toni asked.

"Because he's a chef, I'm telling you," Veser said, and leaned in to add in a conspiratorial whisper: "He reads _cook books_."

"Veser," Alex said, and leaned forward as well to reply: "I can _hear you_."

"So...you _are _a chef?" Toni asked.

"No," Alex replied, and he looked embarrassed that anyone was even insinuating he was such.

"Hanna?" Toni inquired, looking at the redhead, who shrugged and gave Alex a shy smile.

"You do make awesome pancakes," he said, nudging Alex's knee beneath the table.

"So, everyone wants pancakes for Thanksgiving?" Alex asked. "Because that's really all I can make."

"Fuck yes, pancakes," Veser said, looking excited at the prospect of food.

"Now, wait," Toni interrupted. "If you can make pancakes, you can make a turkey."

"Who says that?" Alex asked.

"Apparently a person who can see a correlation between pancakes and a turkey," Conrad put in with a shrug. "I don't see it, but whatever."

"I've never made a turkey before," Alex replied, attention moving from Conrad to Toni, as if to defend himself.

"It can't be too hard, right?" Hanna asked, trying to play referee.

"From what I've read, it seems pretty complicated," was Alex's unsure response.

"It'd probably be even harder because you're Asian, right? I mean, you probably have different tasting genes or something," Veser said.

"What? That doesn't even make any sense," Alex said, looking quite confused at the insinuation.

"Wait, you're Asian?" Hanna asked.

"Yes, it does, I mean, so you're used to eating curry or something, right?" Veser said, leaning back in his chair like he knew what he was talking about. "So, when you make American food you wouldn't know what it's supposed to taste like."

"You know that I was born here, right? My parents were, too. Meaning we ate and cooked American food all the time," Alex replied.

"Wait, I'm still confused here," Hanna said, and when he had everyone attention reiterated his question. His inquiry was directed at Alex, whom he hadn't known this tidbit of information about before, and decided to clarify: "You're Asian?"

"About a third. My grandmother was Japanese. She married an American officer during WWII," Alex answered, and his tone not as offended as it had been with Veser, for which Hanna was glad. He even gave Hanna's palm a gentle squeeze to let him know that he didn't mind him asking such a question.

"Holy shit, no way," Hanna said, and Alex chuckled at his response.

"You mean you couldn't tell?" he asked, and when he mentioned it, Hanna supposed that his eyes had a nice sort of almond shape to them and yeah, he was damn attractive with his dark hair and firm, but not-too-harsh features which were common in Asian men. But beyond that, Alex was taller than any Japanese person he'd ever met. And drove better than one too. Oh, and there was that whole thing about Asian men having small penises, but, _heythereguessnot_. So nail him to a cross and call him a fucking martyr, he hadn't noticed.

"Uh..." Hanna said quietly, a bit embarrassed. "...no, not really."

"Don't get offended," Toni said to Alex. "It's not that he doesn't pay attention, it's just that Hanna can't see race. Ever. You should have seen me trying to explain to him that, yes, we _are _different colors."

"But it doesn't matter," Hanna interjected, because it didn't. Toni could have been a fucking purple dolphin and she would have still been Toni Ipres, friend and resident love counselor to Hanna Falk Cross.

"It does matter when you want to use my cover up to hide your hickies," Toni replied, and Hanna went as red as his hair; beside him Alex's cheeks had turned a delicate crimson, but he was grinning—albeit a bit guiltily—at Hanna. He had been as proud as Hanna in regards to the marks they left each other.

There was just something hot about letting everyone know what was yours.

"So," Conrad said, saving Hanna and Alex from an extended awkward moment, "what were we talking about again?"

"Alex is Asian," Veser answered, still very adamant in his previous observation; Alex just shook his head.

"I'm only part, and what does that have to do with cooking again?" Alex asked.

"You know, it's the whole taste thing," Veser said vaguely.

"How do you know?" Conrad asked, "you can't even turn on the oven."

"You ruin cereal, Confags, that's pretty harsh," Veser replied.

"Okay, so would everyone kindly shut the fuck up?" Toni intervened sweetly, and the bitching quieted. She turned to Alex and said: "Now, since you're a chef—"

"I'm not really—"

"—and you know how to cook things—"

"I don't think that—"

"—would you mind making dinner? We'll all chip in to help out!"

"Well, I'd hate to let everyone down, but..." Alex began, and Toni employed her best weapon. She used The Eyes on him. Hanna wanted to warn Alex about it, because he sensed it coming, but he never got the chance. It was something Hanna learned that only girls could do, where they turned on The Eyes just a bit with the hint of a possible leak from the waterworks and you were done. Completely done. Unless you were heartless, and then you were fine. But if you had feelings at all, The Eyes would do it, and Toni was using them. It was kind of unfair, but maybe-after she mercilessly guilted and coerced him into doing what she wanted-it would be a chance for Alex to not be so closeted about his cooking skills.

"You're going to...not even try?" Toni asked quietly. Her lip even trembled a bit, and Hanna knew that Alex had absolutely no chance. He was way too nice, poor guy.

"Er..." Alex tried, but was cut off before he could answer entirely.

"I mean, can't you try? For us? On _Thanksgiving_?" she added, just to hit it closer to home. "We'll all be alone on Thanksgiving unless..."

Alex's resolve crumbled when it looked like she was about to cry.

"Okay, fine. I'll try," he gave in. Toni's near-tearful face transformed immediately into one of cheer. It just showed her versatility. She'd definitely make many a man cry someday, but at least she'd probably end up in Hollywood too.

"Awesome! You're so great!" she said, and made everyone fork over cash to help pay for the meal.

"What if I've got plans?" Conrad asked.

"Sitting and fapping alone at home is not a plan, man," Veser informed him, and Conrad grumbled to himself as he pulled out his wallet to search for a few bills.

"What does everyone want, then?" Alex asked, as people tossed their share into the middle of the table.

"Booze," Veser said.

"Yams," Toni said, elbowing Veser in the ribs.

"I'm good with anything that's not a microwave meal," Conrad replied, less picky, it seemed.

"I'll eat anything," Hanna put in helpfully, and Alex gave him a smile that Hanna was thrilled to discover still could make his stomach do flips.

"Does anyone want pie?" Alex asked.

"Pie?" came the chorus of four other voices, all at once, with varying pitches of surprise.

"You know, a pie," Alex replied, as if they had not understood correctly. "For dessert?" Immediately, there was a jumbled response:

"Pumpkin!"

"What about apple?"

"Cherry?"

{"Not funny, Toni," Hanna mumbled at her, and her shit-eating grin was definitely not appreciated.}

"Maybe...we can just pick one?" Alex suggested, when it seemed like no one was going to pull back their request. In the end, it was settled—through some more arguing and one arm wrestling match {Toni and Veser; she won}—that the pie would be apple and there would be yams as well as some sort of vegetable casserole thing—"With the crunchy things on top. You've gotta have the crunchy things," Veser insisted—and fresh bread to go with the turkey. Alex gave everyone his address and a 7:00pm dinner date was set. Hanna could see that everyone—even Conrad—seemed to be in lighter spirits after they got up to return to work. Alex was the only one who seemed apprehensive about the entire thing. It was kind of cute to see him flustered and anxious—because usually Hanna was the one who remained in a state of fitful nerves about _everything—_so Hanna did not release his hand as they walked out of the break room and into the store.

"Hey, I'm sure it'll be great," Hanna said, and felt relieved that he didn't stutter over his words. For once, it was his turn to be the cool and supporting one.

"I dunno. I've never really cooked for this many people before," Alex answered, and he was doing that nervous sort of thing he did-see example from previous narratives, wherein Alex tended to avoid Hanna's eyes and such like he was embarrassed-when he didn't want to talk about something. That something usually had to do with cooking, and for the life of him, Hanna could not understand this complex.

"Think of it as your chance to show off," Hanna suggested, because maybe what Alex really needed in terms of confidence was to have people come and actually eat what he made. If his pancakes were anything to go by—which were just nomilicious in every possible way imaginable—then Hanna had no doubt he could somehow swing a multi-course dinner. As they had been walking and talking, Hanna had inadvertently led Alex to where Multimedia's back row led to an Employee's Only entrance to the storeroom. It was semi-private and out of the _tick tick tok tick_ing range of a nosy manager, so Hanna ventured to stand on his very tip toes to kiss Alex reassuringly. It was quick and soft, but even still, left Hanna slightly pink. It had felt right and apparently, it was just the thing to do. It seemed to make the amber pigment to his eyes a little lighter, as if Hanna had chased away his doubts with the simple gesture.

"Okay," he said, and Hanna kissed him again, just because he wanted to.

"You're a good cook, so everything will be awesome," Hanna said, leaving no room in his tone for the universe to interfere with that fact.

And seeing Alex smile like he'd just won the lottery was enough to leave Hanna grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day.

**pqpq**

Hanna had to be in heaven, or at least someplace that was very close to heaven, because certainly there couldn't be anywhere in the human realm of existence where something so delicious existed.

"So, what do you think?" Alex asked, and his expression flitted somewhere between anxious and embarrassed. Hanna was going to try and console him, but he couldn't even think of words due to the fact that his brain had completely shut down after eating a spoonful of the candied yams that Alex had created, probably out of nothing but thin air and pure magic. Seriously, Hanna thought he would never have brain activity ever again, because it had to be the most scrumptious thing he'd ever consumed in his life. "Hanna?"

"Unfsogood..." Hanna got out, and used the spoon he'd been given to try another taste of it. It was the perfect amount of sweetness and the yams were moist and just so delectable that Hanna made a noise of contentment, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor. When he'd cleaned the spoon completely, Hanna resorted to licking his lips so that he didn't just descend upon the entire dish like a complete and utter fatty. "That was so good...it shouldn't be legal..."

"Really?" Alex asked, but looked skeptical, as if he thought Hanna was just being nice.

"_Really_," Hanna replied, because he'd seriously almost had an orgasm eating those yams and he didn't even _like_ yams! Hanna managed not to devour the rest of the side dish-but only barely and while drooling ridiculously-and he held up his spoon to ask excitedly: "Do I get to try more?"

It was Thanksgiving day and Alex had invited Hanna over to his place an hour or so before the others arrived in order to taste test for him. That simply resulted in the current scene, where it was almost six in the evening and Hanna was perched on the edge of Alex's kitchen counter, tasting a bit of every dish he'd made. The food that followed was just as fantastic as the yams: everything came out piping hot, had been seasoned to perfection, and none of it was dry, so simply constituted as just fucking _perfect_.

"So, run this by me again why you're so shy about cooking for people," Hanna said, using his spoon to taste another bit of the green bean casserole—with the crunchy onions on top that Veser had begged for with the whining tenor of a bratty five year old—which was like eating heaven if it came in glass dishware packaging. "Because this has to be the best food I've ever had in my life."

"I dunno," Alex said, and was looking all awkward and embarrassed again. It was so effing cute that Hanna just wanted to pull him closer by the tie of his apron—yes, oho, _yes_, he had been wearing an apron {green, tied low around his thin hips like _unf, _forcing Hanna to eat another bite of casserole to keep himself from getting _aroused_} and it was fantastic as much as it was a fantasy in and of itself, thanks—and hug him.

Or molest him mercilessly, whichever the mood called for.

"Oh, come on, really?"

"I mean, maybe, it's like an art form. For example, you like to write," he said, and Hanna twirled the spoon around in his fingers, trying to hide the fact that he was secretly _bursting at the seams with joy_ that Alex had remembered something so trivial about him, "and you're probably really good at it, but the moment someone wants to read it—"

Hanna cut him off before they could get to that topic, where Alex would insinuate that he wanted to read his work and the redhead would reply that he would allow him the day he sent in that application to the Culinary Institute. It seemed to be one of the few things—in truth, the _only thing—_that they could not agree on.

"Okay, I get it, but seriously," Hanna replied, and gestured with his spoon at Alex, who immediately began busying himself by putting the casserole back into the oven, where the scent blended with the amazing smell of the turkey Hanna-had-yet-to-taste, "you need to be a chef somewhere. Like at one of those really expensive restaurants! You know, the ones that cater to all the Hollywood stars? The ones with the _napkin rings_ and shit? Man, wouldn't that be _awesome_?"

"It would," Alex agreed, closing the door to the oven.

"See? That's why you've got to apply to the institute," Hanna said, nudging his toe against Alex's hip.

"Why don't you send your manuscript to a publisher?" he asked, setting a timer on the stove.

"It's not done yet," Hanna replied, and poked him again. Alex caught hold of his foot and held it in his hand, not releasing Hanna even when he began squirming.

"Maybe you're not ready yet?" Alex said.

"Maybe I'm not," Hanna answered, unable to escape his hold.

"Maybe I'm not either," Alex replied.

"Point taken," Hanna said, and stopped his struggles with a sigh. Alex gave one of his half-smiles with a shrug that said everything without a word having to be spoken. "Maybe one day, then."

"One day," Alex agreed, moving his hands upwards from the striped sock in a manner that made Hanna flush. The redhead could feel the heat of his palms as they traveled slowly along the material of his jeans and suddenly he realized where else he'd like those hands to be touching him and without any clothes—pants mostly—at all. They hadn't done anything beyond kissing after that morning in bed and Hanna had found that the last few days of going home to his own apartment were rather unsatisfying, especially the aches he felt before falling asleep and then upon waking each morning. Without being able to pleasure himself to the point of ecstasy that Alex's hand had brought, Hanna was craving that touch more than ever. However, the path of those palms stopped right at Hanna's knee and went no further, much to his dismay. Because of that, Hanna was unable to keep the disappointed sound from escaping him.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked, and they were closer than before, separated by maybe a breath and a half, which made Hanna very aware of a lot of things at once. The first was the darkening hue of his eyes and then it was the teasing thumb that traced circles around his knee. After that, Hanna realized that, _Christ_, he hadn't been able to relieve himself for days because all his body wanted was Alex and not his own hand or the images that his mind conjured but the real-in-the-flesh-and-gorgeous man who was very, very close with the fingers that were slowly inching upwards...

"Um...I just, er, can we...?" Hanna replied, trying very hard to control his breathing, which wanted to speed up as those hot fingertips slowly moved upwards from his knee. The muscle in his leg trembled and Hanna's body shivered as the touch extended to his sensitive inner thigh. So much for not getting a boner, because he definitely had the beginnings of one and it was kind of hot, because Alex knew it and was deliberately going at a snail's pace, but touching in all the right places.

"We've got twenty minutes," Alex said, indicating the timer on the stove. And boy, did Hanna latch onto him with both arms and legs right there, kissing him in a needy, breathless way. He was fortunate that Alex was strong enough to carry him and that he was also pretty good at navigating too, because they never would have made it into the bedroom otherwise. And when Hanna found himself eased down against the pillows, it was to that same scent of sandalwood that had haunted his dreams, rendering him miserable with an insatiable ache of longing. But since Alex was with him, the memories of the nights he had been left wanting were in the distant past and Hanna was left to focus on the current moment, where he was once again in bed with the hottest thing that walked on two legs and they were making out like twenty minutes was going to go out of style.

The thing about making out was that it usually led to other things of equally awesome, if not _better_, sensations.

"Nm..." Hanna sighed into the kiss, dizzy with the feeling of Alex's tongue against his. It was fast and hot, like the time when they were in the storeroom, and Hanna did not mind at all. For instance, when Alex's hands roamed over his body, Hanna arched his back into the touch, clinging to his broad shoulders when those heated fingertips worked their way under his shirt. They traveled everywhere over Hanna's chest and stomach and back, only dipping a few times towards his navel, which made the redhead tremble with need. Hanna made a small sound against Alex's lips to express his urgency, feeling his body come alive with each heated caress against his skin. His cock begged for attention, pressing hard into Alex's hip.

"Hanna..." Alex murmured, lips brushing over Hanna's throat as he descended lower while those fingers of his pushed the redhead's thermal up all the way so that the lightest of kisses could follow. These soft affections against his chest made Hanna's heart race. It only beat faster the lower Alex went on his body, leaving a warm, tingling trail upon his flesh. "Mn, Hanna..." he breathed out against his stomach, when Hanna moved his fingers to Alex's hair in a silent form of encouragement to keep the fuck _going_. And just the sound of Alex saying his name was enough of a turn-on, but the feeling of a gentle tug to his belt was Erotic City.

Hanna let his head fall back against one of the pillows, struggling to breathe as Alex showered attention to his hipbone while unbuckling his belt. His fingers clenched slightly in Alex's hair when the button of his jeans slowly came undone and then the zipper dragged down at an unfairly sluggish pace. He was all but writhing in anticipation when he felt his pants pulled down a bit, boxers following, and then Alex's breath moving from his hip down over his light red hair and—

_Fuckshityes_ was all Hanna could think, because there was very little other thought that he could manage at that time.

The hand that moved around him was what started it, but what sealed the deal were the lips that moved along his cock, pressing the most teasing, gentle kisses against his throbbing flesh. Hanna's eyes squeezed shut as Alex licked him, his entire body shuddering at the sensations brought on by such a talented tongue. It followed the length of the shaft, applying some pressure to a very sensitive vein-that made Hanna _mewl_ in agonized passion-before making it to the very top. And it was just like his dream-or so Hanna thought, because he really couldn't think or keep his eyes open or breathe properly, but it certainly felt similar-where Alex let his breath ghost over the head and then lapped at it so that Hanna's toes _curled _with pleasure. Alex hadn't even started yet and Hanna was already closer to finishing than he'd like, but _damn_ how was he supposed to resist those charms? When Alex finally took him into his mouth, Hanna could not even describe that bliss. It was better than anything he'd ever experienced before, even the desperate rendezvous in the cafe's back room. Hanna's mind literally blanked and he could think of nothing else except that his cock was enveloped in the hottest, wettest heat and Alex had him in _deep_ and was using his tongue in such a way that that only word to describe it was: _whoa_. And because of this, he had a feeling he was in trouble, because within a few moments of this bliss, Hanna knew he couldn't take much more. He tried to get out a warning, really, he did, but Hanna could barely breathe properly and the muscles in his body had tightened to the point where he just couldn't hold on another second.

If having Alex jerk him off was spectacular, Hanna didn't even have a word in his vocabulary to describe that moment. It had completely blown his mind to the point where he couldn't even comprehend how awesome it had been.

At the peak-before Hanna had fallen into a numbed state of nirvana-Hanna managed to open his eyes momentarily, catching sight of what Alex was doing to him. It was too hot to watch, even more so when Alex gazed up at Hanna while pleasuring him. That look they shared-hot with lust and with a craving for _more_-sent Hanna tumbling over the edge. He felt his body arch and the rest of him clench as all his tension was released in several strong spasms, which then left him lying flush and boneless among the soft sheets and pillows. His entire form trembled when Alex moved to lay next to him and brushed against Hanna's oversensitive skin.

"That had to be the sexiest orgasm I've ever seen," Alex said, and he spoke the dirty words with a low and rich tone to his voice, sending another shiver through Hanna's body. His lingering feelings of euphoria continued when Alex pressed their lips together gently. Hanna could taste the saltiness of himself against Alex's tongue. A few small sounds of appreciation eventually made their way past Hanna's throat as the other man continued to place a few light kisses along his jaw and chin. It wasn't until logical thought returned that Hanna realized he needed to reciprocate, because it wasn't fair that Alex kept having to do most of the work. By now, he was probably needing some relief too. So, Hanna turned his head slightly to intercept one of those tender kisses, knowing that it was his turn make the kiss hotter and to touch Alex with his own fiery fingertips. They were just getting into it too-Hanna was having a bit of a problem getting the knot undone on the apron, but he was rolling with it and trying not to curse his ever present bad luck-when the buzzer in the kitchen went off and Alex made a sound of frustration deep in his throat. Truly, it was hard to give Alex his lip back long enough to let him speak. Plus, he was so hot with his hair sticking up at all angles-courtesy of Hanna's Clutching Fingers of the Joyous Orgasm-and his eyes and cheeks at that darker hue that the redhead considered not letting him leave at all.

"Can...you hold that thought?" he asked. He looked disappointed, but Hanna had to let him go, knowing that the food would be ruined if he didn't. Giving him a nod, Alex hurried from the bedroom and into the kitchen to take care of things. He moved rapidly like a chef, because it took only a few seconds before he was back, already pulling at the strings to his apron in an attempt to get the garment off before joining Hanna again. But the redhead gave him a shy grin and stopped him.

"Leave it on," Hanna said. Alex smirked.

And he did.

**pqpq**

I blame the bad writing on the illness and the heat. I'm going to bed to nurse my fever and such.  
Hope you enjoyed the half-porn, at least? /passes out

**Dhampir72**


	7. Pie

**A/N**: Thanks for all the continued support guys! It's gotten me through this lingering illness—heat exhaustion, how awesome—especially because you guys have been so patient waiting on my sporadic updates. Hopefully, since I've gotten over my random blacking out spells, I'll be feeling a little better to get on a regular updating schedule for the next few chapters. We'll see. And hopefully I don't die between now and then, right? Haha. Anyway, more Hanna/{...} loving for you~!

**pqpq**

Hanna sucked, and not in the good way.

He hated himself so much for it too, because he had _finally_ gotten Alex into bed—wearing the apron, but sans pants for ultimate bonus points—and it was going to be the most amazing thing ever _going down on him_, but then...

Hanna froze.

He legitimately and completely just could not function, because when he was faced with Alex's very nice and very _large_ cock—he knew it was big just from touching it, but Jesus, seeing in the light was just, _Jesus—_Hanna didn't know if he could _do it_. Even all his midnight fantasies and the brief encounters with porn on the internet had not been enough to adequately prepare him for that moment. Blushing heavily, all Hanna could think of was how _big_ Alex was, which was followed by _Christ on a bike_ how was he supposed to fit all of that in his _mouth_?

And Hanna tried to be brave, really he did, but when he got _down there_, he freaked out. He didn't know why, because he'd wanted to try the whole giving-a-blowjob thing for a while—as the thought of sucking Alex's cock was always a turn-on—but the anxiety of doing it wrong sunk in and made Hanna hesitate. It tore him up when Alex asked if he was alright, because the concern in his voice was so damned genuine, Hanna felt like crying out of pure frustration.

"I-I'm sorry..." Hanna mumbled, drawing back when his determination withered away completely. He felt as if he had been stabbed through the chest when he foolishly looked up at Alex's expression: so unfairly _hot_ because Hanna could tell he was horny as hell, but with a rapidly surfacing ripple of worry flitting behind his aroused demeanor. It seemed the redhead could never reciprocate and it killed him inside to know that he could never please Alex to the extent that he had pleased Hanna.

"Hey," he said, and sat up a little so that his apron fell forward and created an impressive tent with the green fabric. Hanna could not look away from it, wondering what the _fuck_ was wrong with him. He had wanted to suck a dick, so he was given a dick, but then he couldn't do _shit_. Hanna never wanted to rip his hair out more than that moment, even when he felt the comforting warmth of Alex's hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Hanna, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay..." Hanna mumbled, shaking his head as he fought tears.

"It _is_ okay, Hanna," he said. Just the way he spoke made Hanna feel like it _was_ okay, even though he knew that it was definitely anything but.

"S'not..." Hanna replied and sniffed, clenching his fingers into his palm to keep from crying stupidly.

"Hanna, look at me," Alex told him, and damn him and his voice and the hand on his shoulder that really said _it's okay _because Hanna was unable to disobey, even though he wanted to. Albeit hesitant, Hanna lifted his eyes to meet what had to be the most reassuring smile on the planet. He couldn't understand it for the life of him: why Alex would continuously be so _patient_ with him like it was no big deal Hanna didn't have the balls to give him head. Any other guy in the world who was sexually inclined towards men would give Alex a blowjob _in a heartbeat_ and Hanna, who had him exclusively, just _couldn't_ do it. How on earth did Alex not hate his guts or at least feel something akin to disappointment? How could he smile like that? Even someone as nice as Alex would be feeling sexually frustrated right now, _right_?

"Why aren't you mad?" Hanna asked, dropping his gaze to Alex's shoulder; anything to avoid those amber eyes of his that were still dark with lust and want.

"Would you be mad at me?" Alex asked, and it was strangely reminiscent of the night when Hanna had been alone, crying in his car after ruining their first date. The patience that night still remained and Hanna was grateful, yeah, but damn perplexed by it too.

"No, of course not," Hanna replied, and his eyes were pulled back to Alex's, like he'd been trapped by some sort of magnetic pull he could not escape.

"It's the same for me. I'm not mad at you," he said easily, and Hanna cursed his use of simple logic.

"I'm...still really sorry..." Hanna mumbled, and he managed to turn his eyes away again, ashamed.

"Don't be," Alex replied, and Hanna heard him sit up a little more, moving closer than they had been previously. Hanna felt the heat of Alex's cheek against his shoulder and it somehow made him feel worse than before. "When you're ready, you're ready, okay?"

"Okay," Hanna said, swallowing his misery and self-loathing because Alex really seemed fine despite all the hindering roadblocks in their sexual relationship.

"Good," was Alex's answer, and Hanna felt a blush creep into his skin when a small, breathy kiss pressed against his neck. It only intensified when Alex took hold of his hand and guided it up his thigh towards the neglected erection. "Er, in the meantime...want to give me a hand?"

And Hanna tried not to, he really did, but he ended up _snorting_ in an attempt not to laugh at the choice of words. Trust Alex to be the one to so effortlessly bring Hanna back into a good mood. Against his throat, Hanna felt the other man smile and then laugh softly.

"The pun was intended."

"Got it."

**pqpq**

"Holy shit, it smells so fucking good in here."

"We could smell it from the _parking lot_, you know that right?"

Those were the primary comments by Veser and Toni, who were the first to arrive at the apartment, toting a 24-pack of beer and a bottle of red wine respectively. Hanna knew that both were underage, but knew better than to ask how they had acquired the alcohol, just as Toni knew not to say a word about the button-up shirt that Hanna wore, which was quite obviously not his—borrowed after Hanna had given Alex a _hand_, which had resulted in a bit of a mess that Alex had been quite embarrassed about—or in any way related to his eclectic wardrobe {because Hanna liked patterns while Alex was more of a solid-color kind of guy}. At the pass between the doorway and living room—where coats and scarves were hung up on the rack on the fake foyer wall—they simply exchanged a raised eyebrow. Otherwise, the two of them remained silent about the scenario, which was a relief even though Hanna had a feeling Toni would be bringing it up first thing tomorrow morning at work with her usual taunting tone when she called him _Cherry_. Just thinking about the nickname made Hanna feel quite down on himself—despite Alex's assurances that it really had been okay and he wasn't mad or disappointed at all—for being so lame. His angst only intensified: Hanna couldn't even give _head_ properly. At this rate, Alex would eventually get bored of him, resulting in—a cold feeling crept up on him rapidly—the end of the happy life of a non-single and Hanna ending up as the oldest virgin in existence.

"Hey! Aren't you pumped about the booze?"

The question came from Veser, who—after putting the beer in the fridge—had returned to the small living room, where Hanna stood, consumed in his quietly lingering depression. When Hanna did not answer immediately, the teen punched him in the arm, effectively waking Hanna from his thoughts.

"Ow! What the fuck, man?" Hanna asked, rubbing the aching spot.

"I brought beer, you ungrateful shit," Veser said. He had one open in his left hand; a second tucked into the crook of his elbow, which was then offered to Hanna with the right hand that had struck him seconds before.

"You brought _Natti_?" Hanna replied, taking the proffered can. The cheap alcohol reminded him of college and the smell that pervaded from every dorm room Tuesday through Sunday. He didn't open it in fear of killing more brain cells than he could afford.

"Dude, I'm broke," Veser answered and took a swig of the foul beer. "Fifteen bucks can get you only so far. As in Natti and a couple gallons of gas."

"It's a miracle we made it here, especially in your car," Toni added, as she returned to the living room to join them. She had a glass of wine in her hand, which was much classier than Natural Light any day, in Hanna's opinion, even though he rarely drank anything that dark, let alone could afford it.

"Hey, don't talk shit about my car," Veser replied, but even Hanna could tell that he was in good spirits despite being flat broke and from a family that hated each other so much that they wouldn't even celebrate Thanksgiving together.

"Just stating facts," Toni said, and bumped him with her hip and it was cute, so Hanna figured he'd drink Veser's shitty Natti and sail the Toni and Veser ship just because of that.

"You don't anything about shitty cars until you've ridden in mine," Hanna replied, pulling back the tab on his beer to join in the festivities.

"Or mine," came Alex's voice from the kitchen. A moment later, he appeared with half-glass of wine in hand as he came to join them, nudging their cluster towards the couch.

"Okay, let me settle this: we all drive clunkers because we're poor, the end," Toni amended, and grasped onto Veser's hand to lead him in the direction of the sofa. Because the apartment was small, Alex didn't have much in the way of furniture: one couch that could seat three—maybe four, if they were all thin and squished together—a coffee table, and a small entertainment center. The rest of his flat mostly consisted of bookshelves, a dining table big enough for two—which had been nice that one morning, eating pancakes together with their knees resting quite comfortably resting against one another—and then a closet of a bathroom with only a slightly bigger bedroom attached to it. Cozy for two, but with four, it seemed a little packed. When Conrad arrived, it would be a bit stifling, Hanna thought, but said not a word as he took a seat at one end of the couch.

"Okay, so where's the Xbox?" Veser asked, the moment his ass hit the cushions.

"Dunno what you're talking about," Alex replied, as he leaned forward to set his glass on the table next to Hanna's beer.

"C'mon. Every self-respecting guy has an Xbox. Even the gay ones," Veser said, pointing his finger accusingly at Alex, who gave him a look as he moved his guitar from its position next to the couch to a safer location next to an out-of-the-way bookshelf.

"I don't have one," Alex answered when he returned, not seemingly bothered by Veser's accusatory digit as he perched on the arm of the sofa by Hanna's side.

"Bullshit. You're a Left 4 Dead kind of guy. I can tell," Veser said, and did not put down his finger until Alex sighed and gave in. And that was how their Thanksgiving began with a co-op game of L4D, wherein Toni expertly made it through the first level of Dead Air while Veser died spectacularly after a confrontation with a very irate Witch. And a pack of ravenous zombies.

"Lame," Toni said, when she began healing in the safe room between levels.

"Hey, I took all that damage from the Witch _and _the Hoard so you could live," Veser insisted, before adding unnecessarily: "Because you're a girl."

"R_iii_ght," Toni replied, sounding doubtful. Hanna was too, because he thought that Veser's gameplay was not very good to begin with—either due to skill level or the Natti—though his enthusiasm could not be beaten. However, the redhead didn't care that much about the game in all actuality, because Alex had idly begun to rub his thumb in a small, circular motion against his shoulder and neck that effectively reduced Hanna to incoherent thought and a very stupid grin. The warm, giddy feeling lasted even a few moments after Alex had stopped and gotten up to answer the door. How he had heard it over the gunfire and screeching zombies, Hanna had no idea.

When he returned, it was with an uncomfortable-looking Conrad, who had dressed up rather nicely for the occasion—slacks and a collared shirt—while everyone else sat lazily donned in jeans and t-shirts.

"Conrad's here!" Toni said cheerfully when she spotted him, glancing up as her character slowly was dragged across the screen by a Smoker's tongue. Maybe it was the wine and the prospect of a good meal, but she was just glowing. Or perhaps it was because she had beaten Veser, who had already died at the start of the second level.

"Hey, Confags, wanna get me another beer?" Veser said, by way of his own greeting.

"You can't drink," Conrad replied with a scowl. "And quit calling me Confags."

"Or what?" Veser prompted, before adding: "_Confags_."

"I'll call the cops and get you busted for underage drinking," Conrad replied.

"You wouldn't," Veser said, narrowing his eyes.

"Fuck I wouldn't," Conrad replied.

"Fine, _Connie_," Veser said, and his green gaze fell on Hanna. "Go get me another beer."

"I'm not your bitch," Hanna answered simply. Alex appeared at that moment, carrying a chair so that Conrad could have a seat.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, and he glanced at Hanna before looking at the others, as if wanting to know if Veser had offended him. It made Hanna smile to know that he would be defended so readily.

"Alex, my man. Get me another beer, bro," Veser said.

"Are your legs broken?" Alex inquired, setting the chair down.

"No," Veser replied.

"Want me to remedy that?" Alex asked, and although there was no threat in his voice, the intention was clear.

"Er…" Veser began, but stopped—probably on recalling the incident with the broom—and then with a last-ditch effort, looked at Toni, who gave him the expression that said _I dare you to ask me_. His expression turned into one of fear within the span of three seconds, which was rather hilarious in Hanna's opinion, though he managed not to grin outright at the sight. "Right… I'm getting myself another beer," he stated, setting down his controller on the coffee table as he stood up and headed for the kitchen. Immediately, Alex went to run interference before Veser could start binge drinking, which was a good idea to prevent the teen from turning into more of an idiot than usual. The last thing they needed was for Veser to start breaking shit. The moment he was out of sight, Conrad abandoned the chair Alex had produced for him and went to take Veser's spot on the couch next to Toni, probably to spite the foul-mouthed teen. Toni grinned at Hanna and then snuggled up against Conrad, shoving her controller into his hands.

"Wanna play?" she asked. He sent a panicked glance in Hanna's direction, obviously not quite knowing how to handle himself when an attractive woman's breasts were pressed against him.

"Not really," he answered, voice high and embarrassed.

"C'mon, Connie," Toni said.

"Um..."

"Please?"

"Uh..."

He looked at Hanna in a _helpmehelpme_ sort of way, to which Hanna responded with a shrug and Conrad was forced to take the controller from the girl. In response, Toni picked up Veser's and started a new game. In the kitchen, Hanna heard Alex trying to convince Veser to try some casserole or yams instead of accepting the challenge to shotgun a beer.

"Er...How do I make it go?" Conrad asked, the moment the game started.

"Use these joysticks here," Toni replied, showing him as she easily used Veser's character to wipe out a lot of angry zombies coming their way.

"How do I shoot?" he asked, after another moment of failing to do much of anything.

"These buttons," Toni answered, and demonstrated.

Another moment passed.

"Wait, why am I the chick?" Conrad inquired, upon realizing that he was the only girl in the game.

"Because you're a pussy," was Veser's response as he returned to the living room. He had a bowl of deliciously sweet smelling yams and no beer, which was definitely a good thing. "And why are you in my seat?"

"You didn't call seat check, Veser," Toni pointed out.

"Are we in second grade?" Veser asked, spooning another portion of yams into his mouth. The food seemed to be making him docile, which was actually quite interesting to watch, as Veser's bad temper and usually foul mouth seemed to have improved. Somewhat.

"I don't know. How old are you acting?" Toni inquired, making her character back against a wall to shoot at the incoming hoard of zombies. Instead of answering, Veser made an annoyed sound and moved past Hanna to sit down on the floor, resting his arm across Toni's knees as she played. While she reloaded, Toni gave Hanna a look that basically bragged _bitch got him trained_ as she took a second to pat Veser's head, blue nails moving through his steel gray hair as if in reward.

"I'm getting another drink," Hanna said and grabbed his half-finished beer, standing up to relinquish his spot to Veser. He would rather be in the kitchen with Alex than on the couch watching as Conrad struggled with the Xbox while Toni and Veser played house together. So, he abandoned them in the living room and went into the kitchen, where Alex was pulling plates from one of the high cabinets. The turkey sat in its pan atop the stove: a giant monstrosity of a bird that had been browned and seasoned to perfection. The smell alone made Hanna feel like he was slobbering all over himself in a very unattractive manner.

"I guess it looks okay then?" Alex asked, upon seeing Hanna inch closer to the main course.

"You sure you've never made a turkey before?" Hanna inquired, looking at him with suspicion as he set the stack of plates on the counter.

"Never in my life," Alex replied honestly, and cut off a little piece for Hanna to try. If the yams were an instant orgasm, the turkey was the equivalent of ten instant orgasms. "What do you think? I Googled a recipe because I didn't have one…"

"I…you…_this_…" was all Hanna could get out.

"Good?" Alex asked, a grin quirking on his lips at Hanna's response.

"So good…" Hanna replied, and when he had most of his motor function back, he looked from Alex to the turkey. "Oh, man. Can we eat now?"

Alex laughed and kissed him on the cheek and it was more wonderful than anything else.

"Yeah, let's eat."

**pqpq**

Toni insisted on having a toast before digging in, which was pretty difficult for everyone, seeing as how delicious everything looked.

"My toast is to hurrying the fuck up," Veser said, and thrust up his drink, "so we can eat."

"Agreed," Hanna replied.

"Seconded," Conrad added, his gaze fixated on the turkey.

"C'mon, guys, for real," Toni said, pouting at their apparent lack of interest in sharing any more than they had to. She was all for getting them to divulge more of their thoughts and problems, because she was a girl. The rest of them just wanted food.

"Yeah, for real," Veser replied, with no trace of comedy, "let's hurry the fuck up."

"It'll still be here in a minute..." Alex said, trying to play the peace keeper.

"Fine, whatever…" Veser mumbled, because a very pointed Toni-stare silenced his complaints before they could continue.

"To great friends," she began cheerily, holding up her wine glass, "and to all of us being filthy rich one day."

"You're the only one who's gonna be rich, so you have to buy us each our own island," Veser said, tipping his can slightly to nudge her glass.

"What? Who says?" Toni asked.

"Great friends," Hanna replied, clinked his can of warm beer against Veser's.

"Bull," Toni said.

"Nope, it's in the rules," Veser said, "that if one of us gets a shit ton of money, that person has to buy everyone else in the group an island. It's only fair."

"Right," Toni said doubtfully.

"In any case, I'm seconding the filthy rich part," Conrad said, putting his glass up as well.

"I'm just seconding the being filthy part," Veser put in, and grinned pointedly at Toni.

"Don't be a dick," Toni replied, pointing her blue nail at him, "or else you're not getting laid tonight." Hanna choked, ears turning red at her blunt rebuttal.

"That's rough," Conrad added, and looked pleased at the fact that he might have gotten one up on Veser.

"I like it like that," Veser replied, effectively ruining Conrad's attempt. The bespectacled man's expression turned disgusted and then somewhat horrified as the mental images sunk in.

A few beats of silence followed.

"So, before this gets awkward..." Alex began—though it was already too late for that—as he held up his glass: "Here's to me hoping I don't poison everyone with dinner tonight."

"If that's poison, I'll eat my foot," Conrad said.

"It's pretty tasty for poison," Veser put in.

"Best poison I've ever had," Hanna agreed, and gave Alex a pointed smile, which he returned in a relieved and grateful manner.

"It looks and smells great, so I doubt we'll be calling in sick tomorrow," Toni concluded as they clinked their glasses together even further; Hanna watched her eyeing the dish of yams on the counter out of his peripheral.

"Oh, but damn, that sounds like such an awesome idea," Veser said, and pushed his can into everyone's drink as he added: "So here's to work not sucking balls tomorrow."

"I second that like whoa," Hanna replied enthusiastically; all of them seemed to be nodding in mutual agreement over this fact.

"In addition to that, here's to the whole damned holiday season passing as quickly as possible," Conrad said.

"Aw, do we have a Scrooge in the house?" Toni asked teasingly.

"No, we have a disgruntled employee who hates working between now and Christmas because it's retail Hell," Conrad replied.

"These are true facts," Hanna said solemnly, recalling every other job he'd had in retail. Target had been the worst on a day-by-day basis, but during the holidays it was downright _scary_.

"True, sad facts," Toni conceded as she tipped her glass against Conrad's.

"Oh, man, can we eat yet?" Veser asked, getting antsy with all the waiting.

"No," Toni replied, "Hanna has to make a toast."

"Ah, do I really?" Hanna asked, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

"Everyone else has," Toni pointed out.

"But everyone took mine," Hanna whined, though it was in good humor, especially when he saw how entertained Alex was by the whole scenario.

"Make one up, then," Veser said, nudging Hanna's hand with his drink, "because I'm fucking starving."

"You annihilated half a bowl of yams already," Conrad said.

"And a pack of Twizzlers in the car," Toni added.

"And don't think I didn't notice that there was a big chunk missing from the casserole," Alex put in for good measure.

"Man's gotta eat," Veser answered defensively as he turned to say to Hanna: "so hurry up, douche-twat."

"Here's to us not being alone on Thanksgiving," Hanna said, "even if it means hanging out with Veser."

"Hey, I bring quality humor and shit to all of you, every day, _for free_," Veser replied.

"Really, you don't have to," Conrad said. "We'd live without your wit and charisma."

"Somehow," Hanna added dryly.

"You'll all miss me when I'm gone," Veser said.

"Doubtful," Conrad replied.

"Dirty lies, Confags," Veser said, and Toni stepped in before he could add anything else:

"Okay, we're done now. Let's drink and then eat."

They drank to their toasts. Conrad and Veser were still sniping at each other afterwards and Toni tried to keep the peace by standing between them while leading them in the direction of the food. Hanna smiled at the display, joining everyone in the kitchen as plates were passed around laden with heavy helpings of turkey and sides.

"You know, this has to be most dysfunctional Thanksgiving I've ever had," Hanna said quietly to Alex, as Veser fought against Conrad for the last bit of the casserole while Toni was too busy eating her yams to intervene. It was true, because before Hanna's parents had died, he recalled their Thanksgiving holidays being Hallmark-perfect with just the three of them; after they passed, the holiday had always been overlooked in one foster-care situation or another. It had been a long time since Hanna had celebrated and now, it was with the most unlikely of people: not relatives, but co-workers who had become his closest friends. And then there was the man beside him, who Hanna thanked his lucky stars was _his_. In the monotonous life of Hanna Cross, there was something bright and wonderful, because he didn't need money or fame or _anything_ at all to be _happy_. It was kind of dumb, but he felt like crying. Instead, he smiled and laughed, leaning against Alex— who had put his arm around him with his impeccable sense of knowing when to do so—with all the joy in the world as he concluded: "But I wouldn't want it any other way."

**pqpq**

"Holy _shit_, look at this _pie_."

"Veser, don't have a fit. It's just an apple pie."

"Jesus Christ, Toni, do you see this pie?"

"I see it, just chill out."

"How can I chill out? Do you see this _fucking_ pie?"

"I see that it's not _cherry_."

"Haha, Toni, you're hilarious. Not."

"Alex, what the hell are they talking about?"

"I dunno, Conrad. I think they're speaking in code."

"If only you knew, babe."

"Toni. I swear to God I'll kill you."

"Please take it outside so that you don't get blood on the carpet."

"You guys are fucked up. Do you know this? Like, really fucked up."

"Who gives a shit, Confags? Let's eat this _fucking_ pie. I'm so stoked!"'

Alex's homemade apple pie was a fantastic hit, just like Hanna said and it was one of the best Thanksgiving holidays ever.

**pqpq**

After everyone had consumed enough food and pie and alcohol—and played a few spectacularly bad games of Left 4 Dead, courtesy of a little too much wine and a lot more Natti than fit for human consumption—the group began filtering out. Conrad was the first to leave, saying he—like all of them—had to help open tomorrow and wanted to go to bed early. Toni and Veser followed shortly after, all compliments and drunken adoration for Alex's meal—which made him turn a color that Hanna found he quite liked—before departing. Hanna could hear Veser stumbling down the hallway, singing some sort of love ballad to Toni, who was remarkably sober as she tried to lead him along the stairwell without killing the both of them. It was cute and late and the evening had been enjoyable—and even the moody grouch-pie _Conrad_ seemed to have a good time—so Hanna could not stop smiling, no matter how hard he tried. Even his previously inadequate sexual encounter could not dampen his mood.

Well, that was until Hanna realized that he and Alex were alone again, which only brought back his mounting frustration with himself and how he could not do _anything_ right. Surely after what they had done—or in Hanna's case, _not_ done—before everyone arrived had been in Alex's thoughts all evening. He'd said it was okay, but Hanna felt that something so monumental could not be overlooked.

"That was actually kind of fun," said Alex, his back to Hanna as he washed the small pile of dishes that had accumulated by the sink.

"Yeah," Hanna agreed, leaning against the counter to watch him, unsure why he felt so nervous again. Not wanting to lapse into silence—because it would only increase his anxiety—Hanna added: "The food was really good and everyone liked it. I told you it would work out."

"Well, I'm glad it did," he said, and yawned into his elbow. "Damn, I'm beat, though."

"Me too..." Hanna replied, fiddling with the hem of Alex's borrowed shirt. He tried not to recall his failure or dwell on the fact that he'd hopefully brought his work clothes and left them in his car in preparation for the moment Alex might ask him to stay the night. But after earlier, Hanna doubted he would be spending much time on Alex's mattress and the majority of his nights in his own bed. "And we have to get up early tomorrow..."

"Yeah, don't remind me," he said, and shut off the faucet after he'd finished the last few dishes.

"Well, I guess I should probably...go..." Hanna replied, mumbling his way through the last part of it without any enthusiasm. His eyes remained fixated on the floor and his pair of old checkered shoes that were worn and faded.

"You're not staying?" Alex asked, and the disappointment that bled into his tone was more than apparent, causing Hanna to look up with an expression of half-confusion, half-hope. He could not form a reply immediately, and it made Alex ball up the towel he'd been using to dry his hands as he amended quickly: "I mean, if you don't want to that's okay."

"N-No, I want to," Hanna said, flushing with embarrassment: "I was just...you know, about earlier, so I didn't know if you..."

"I told you, it's fine," Alex replied and his eyes were light when he smiled, tossing the towel at Hanna playfully. The redhead caught it, twisting it around in his hands as he debated on how to approach his next question.

"Why...are you so awesome?" Hanna asked, cheeks still hot as he added: "I mean, about all of this?"

Alex's smile faltered momentarily before repairing itself, but Hanna had still seen the shift and wondered exactly what had caused such a reaction.

"It's a long story," he replied, "but let's just say that no matter what, I'll never force you to do anything you don't want to do."

It was only later, when they were in bed and the lights were off that Hanna understood his meaning in its entirety. He thought that he was wrong, at first, and tried not to think about it, because his back was against Alex's chest and they were comfortably pressed against one another so perfectly. But the thought returned and began multiplying, creating scenario after scenario in his head, each one even worse than the one before it. Then the images came and his heart began beating too fast against his ribs. It resulted in Hanna's sudden state of being wide awake as he kept telling himself _no, no, no_ because it couldn't be.

It couldn't be.

"Alex," Hanna said quietly, in case he'd already fallen asleep. The arm moved around his waist slightly as Alex curled a bit closer behind him, nuzzling against his hair.

"Hmm?" was his sleepy response. Just because of that vulnerable, innocent sound, he considered holding his tongue and not asking at all. But Hanna felt wound up and sick and just _had to know._

"Did...someone hurt you?" Hanna asked, and his voice was so small and _scared_ that he barely recognized it. After the words came out, Hanna could hardly hear the wind outside over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He waited a few moments, nauseous and finding it hard to breathe, secretly hoping that maybe, just _maybe_ Alex hadn't heard him in the first place and Hanna would never ever know the answer to that question.

But.

"No," he finally answered and Hanna let out a sigh of relief, blindly groping for Alex's hand beneath the blanket. Alex's fingers moved around his and his thumb began that comforting full-moon tracing caress that he tended to provide when Hanna was upset. It calmed him down considerably, especially with the reassuring kiss placed on the back of Hanna's neck.

"Thank god…" Hanna sighed quietly, so relieved that the conjured images of sexual violence towards the man behind him were just imagined and nothing more. Although it had come unbidden, the thought of that happening—to anyone really, but especially—Alex was just unbearable. He was just too _nice_ and such a good guy that it wouldn't be fair. Turning around beneath his arm, Hanna embraced him around the waist as he hid in that perfect spot between Alex's jaw and throat before admitting: "I was scared there for a minute…"

"It's alright," Alex said and the way he moved his fingers through Hanna's hair, the redhead felt he could finally relax. "Nothing like that happened to me, but…a good friend of mine…well, wasn't so lucky. That's why I know that nothing's worse than being forced into something you don't want to do. Or something you're not ready to do." Hanna flushed and remained silent, prompting Alex a few moments later to utter a somewhat-sleepy, but genuine: "When you're ready, you're ready, okay?"

"Okay…" Hanna mumbled, unable to remain miserable when he was warm pressed against Alex's chest and cozy beneath the blankets that smelled fresh and good, like incense and aftershave. Alex kissed the top of his head and pulled the comforter a bit further over their shoulders as they settled down for the evening. Once everything was in place, silence lapsed over them for a few moments, until Hanna broke it with a humorous:

"What if I'm ready now?"

Alex gave a tired laugh and said:

"G'night, Hanna."

**pqpq**

Alex's alarm clock went off at 4:04 a.m., bringing Hanna into the cruel world about five hours earlier than usual, which was the equivalent of seven hours too early in his opinion.

"No…" Hanna grumbled, and flipped the pillow over his head to hide from the obnoxious noise.

"Mhm…" Alex agreed, leaning over him to hit the snooze button, perhaps a bit more viciously than necessary, but Hanna found it appropriate. The _sun _wasn't even up yet, so they shouldn't be either. However the clock was persistent and Alex eventually got up, leaving Hanna alone in bed with blissful silence and all the blankets. It was nice, but Hanna missed the warmth of Alex draped over him and ended up rolling over into his spot to soak up the remains of his body heat. He hummed quietly at the nice feeling, wishing that they didn't have to go to work and instead could lie in bed for the rest of the day, doing a series of dirty things to one another. But life was life and it was unfair and Hanna promised himself that if he ever met the person who came up with the idea for Black Friday, he'd stab them in the face.

Multiple times.

"C'mon, Hanna…" came Alex's voice from the kitchen, but it was tired and through a yawn. The redhead played dead, listening to the sound of Alex's soft footfalls against the carpet as he neared the bedroom. He remained still until the other man grabbed hold of his foot and shook him a bit.

"Nooo…" Hanna whined. He resisted only when Alex dropped his ankle and began tugging the comforter and sheets from Hanna's balled up form.

"Wake up," he prompted gently, but let Hanna pull the blankets back over him.

"Dunwanna," Hanna mumbled pathetically. Although it was nice to fall asleep and wake up with Alex, it was not nice to have to wake up at four in the morning. It made Hanna silently curse the Gods for his cruel and unusual punishment. As if the day wasn't bad enough with all the activity and rude patrons, he had to get up unfairly early as well. The mattress dipped, pulling him out of those self-pitying thoughts and into something much nicer when Hanna felt Alex move over his body. When he laid against Hanna's back, it was as if a warm quilt had been thrown over him and Hanna said, in a dazed state of comfort: "Now I really dunwanna..."

"I made coffee," said his Alex-blanket, and Hanna replied with interested sound at that. It took another few moments before the both of them were situated in an upright position against the headboard, drinking fresh coffee at quarter to five. The redhead leaned sleepily against Alex's arm as he tried to let the caffeine do its work, humming contently despite the time.

"Why'd we get up so early?" Hanna asked, yawning as he leaned across Alex to set his cup on the nightstand before flopping back down for a few minutes of shut eye. "We dun have to be t'work until six-thirty..."

"I figured we had to eat breakfast," Alex replied and Hanna heard him set his mug down on the bedside table as well. "Then we have to get your clothes from your place."

"Um...I have my clothes...in the car..." Hanna answered, nearly purring as Alex's fingers traced random patterns on his back.

"In the car?" he repeated. "Why didn't you bring them up last night?"

"...didn't know if you were gonna ask me to stay or not..." Hanna mumbled into the pillow.

"Of course I want you to stay," Alex said and there was laughter in his voice. "I like when you sleep over. You should do it more often."

"Really?" Hanna asked, and turned his head slightly so that one blue eye peered up at him curiously.

"Really," he said and, despite the early hour, Hanna felt giddiness bubbling inside of him because Alex wanted him to spend the night more often and that was just _awesome_. The redhead smiled a bit shyly, but with a happiness that could not rivaled by anything. Black Friday could kiss his ass because Alex wanted him around, even if Hanna still needed a bit more experience in the sexual relations department. And speaking of sexual relations, Alex's touch became a bit more sensual—or maybe it was just Hanna's imagination—causing heat to rush into Hanna's cheeks. "So what do you say?"

"O-Okay," Hanna replied.

"Great," he replied and Hanna's blush increased as he realized what Alex's touch was doing to him. He damned himself for being so sensitive and the fact that he was getting aroused of all things just from an idle caress. Not wanting to ruin such a moment, Hanna mumbled that he had to go to the bathroom and practically darted from the mattress to escape before he could get an erection. After closing the door, Hanna paid the water bill before trying to flatten out his hair with his hand. It still stuck up all over the place, so Hanna eventually gave up and brushed his teeth instead. The last time he had stayed the night, Alex had given him a toothbrush, which the redhead was amazed to find still resided in the holder above the sink. Either Alex wasn't quick to throw things away or he had been hoping Hanna would come back again…

Hanna couldn't stop grinning at the prospect of assumption number two, even if it made him drip minty foam all over himself like Cujo.

When he cleaned himself up and emerged from the safety of the bathroom, Hanna had shaken off the arousal rather well. But the moment he was back in the bedroom and had his glasses on, Hanna was faced with a shirtless Alex waiting for him beneath the blankets, looking too sexy too early in the morning to be fair. Wearing nothing but his boxers, one sock, and one of Alex's wrinkled button-ups, Hanna looked like a confused college freshman after a frat party. Even still, Hanna felt Alex's eyes on him and experienced a rush of warmth to his cock when he smiled, set down his coffee, and indicated for Hanna to come closer. He had no idea what Alex saw in him—and resigned himself to probably never understanding the attraction—but Hanna wasn't about to argue, and went to him.

Even if every morning with Alex started at four, Hanna wouldn't care, because it was a great way to start the day.

The clock on the nightstand read 5:01 when Hanna settled himself over Alex's lap and found himself kissed with lips that tasted like French vanilla, followed by a tongue that was just as sweet. A few moments of this in combination with the hands that roamed beneath his shirt and Hanna had been transformed into a shaking, needy wreck of a human being who wanted nothing more than Alex to touch him even more: everywhere, faster and maybe even a bit rougher, too. But he went slowly, undoing the buttons of the shirt one at a time with such care that Hanna considered ripping the fabric clear off his body just to speed things up. However, Hanna did not, allowing Alex to continue at his teasing pace. His skin came alive when the rough pads of Alex's fingers brushed over his chest, lips following the path so that Hanna couldn't stop his panting breaths and the way his fists clenched in anticipation for each inch of contact.

"We should probably take a shower," Alex said, once Hanna's shirt had been opened all the way, revealing what pushed urgently against the front of his boxers all too clearly. The redhead made a pitiable sound when Alex's fingers stopped in their downward journey and knew that the shower would have to be like swimming in the fucking Arctic Circle if he had any chance of getting rid of his erection.

Hanna made another disappointed sound, because it was 5:17 and they did have to start getting ready to go to work, despite the fact that he was now completely horny and it just was so not cool to start something like _that_ and not finish.

"Hanna," he said, and it took all his strength to open his eyes.

"Y-yeah…" Hanna managed to get out, swallowing as he tried to think with something that wasn't his throbbing prick. "Uhm…d'you wanna go first?"

"I want you to come with me," he replied, and Hanna was _not_ about to argue.

And that was how, at 5:21, Hanna found himself completely naked in the shower with Alex, who was also completely naked and _holymotherofGod_ all Hanna could comprehend was that they were both very _naked_. When Alex soaped up a washcloth and began moving it over his skin, Hanna's mind ceased to function. It was a combination of the slightly rough material brushing over his hard nipples and sensitive abdomen and then _down there _and, really, Hanna couldn't recall ever being so horny before. Maybe it was the slowness of the exercise, the patience that Alex executed with each teasing motion, or perhaps the feeling of a cock against his that made Hanna's knees tremble weakly. This feeling increased tenfold as Alex pressed him against the cool tiled wall of the shower, which was a sharp contrast to the heat of the water. The temperature difference somehow made him _harder_ and caused Hanna to release a desperate sound against the lips that were pressed ardently against his.

"Ahnmm!"

When Alex's hips moved against his, Hanna's vocal response became a bit louder despite his best attempts to keep quiet. But the sensation of his erection sliding against Alex's, the hardness trapped between their heated bodies, was just too much to bear. Alex's thumb barely brushed over the head of his cock and Hanna was done. His back arched from the wall, fingers scrabbling spastically at Alex's shoulders as the orgasm rippled across his nerves, tearing a sound from his throat could not even be categorized as anything but animalistic.

As a few moments passed and Hanna finally came down from that elevated plane of pleasure, he realized how little it took to get him off and felt a bit embarrassed that he hadn't lasted longer. But before Hanna could muster up any sort of apology, Alex's lips were against his again.

"You're so _hot_," he said, and his voice sounded strained, so _aroused_ that Hanna felt another smaller tremor of desire run through him. And speaking which, Alex was still hard, and that might have been what gave Hanna a little bit more courage than usual. Without a guiding hand, Hanna slid his palms down Alex's lean waist toward his hips, daring enough to use his dominant hand in order to grasp onto his hardness. There was a small, breathy gasp against his lips that told Hanna it felt good, so he began a purposefully slow stroking motion along the length, drinking in the way Alex's body reacted to the stimulation.

It was in that moment that Hanna decided he was ready.

Parting from him only momentarily, Hanna managed to coax Alex into switching places with him. With Alex leaning against the wall, it gave Hanna enough room to do what he needed and, letting instinct take over, the redhead began his mission to return the pleasure he'd been given. Hanna moved from Alex's chest down his stomach, trailing his tongue over the lean muscle, kissing at each defined dip and swell. His intentions were clear; Hanna felt Alex's fingers curl gently in his wet hair to encourage him onward. Blind without his glasses, Hanna let his lips find the path from Alex's navel: following the curve of his hip bone further south. Maybe it was because he couldn't see, but when Hanna found the base of Alex's cock with his left hand and both lips, he did not shy away like he had done previously. Closing his eyes, Hanna lost himself in the sensation of the hot water pounding down on his back and shoulders as he dragged his tongue along the long length of Alex's cock. Even over the shower, Hanna heard the low sound the other man made in response to that single motion and the redhead could not stop his free hand from straying downward to touch himself.

"Mn…Hanna…" was what Hanna heard above him when he traced his tongue around the wet head that tasted a bit salty, but not _bad_ at all. Braver than ever before, Hanna took the entire tip into his mouth, humming when he felt Alex's fingers _clench_ in his hair. He was doing it right if he inspired that response and it gave him the motivation to go a bit further. Unable to fit all of Alex's seven odd inches down his throat, Hanna did what he could: stroking at the base while doing his best to recall every tip that Cosmo had ever given in that one embarrassing article he'd read. He managed to do okay—despite Alex having to tell him once, in a breathy sort of way, that he was doing fine, but maybe not to go _quite_ so hard—because he didn't _bite_ him at least. And Hanna had to say that giving head was a lot better than a hand-job, as it was a lot more arousing to hear the _sounds_ that Alex apparently had been holding back before. At least he managed to get out a warning before he came—though Hanna got half a mouthful of it and really, it wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be—and just the feeling of Alex's muscles stiffening as he tried to stifle a moan was enough to make Hanna cum again.

When they finally had control of their limbs again, the two of them stumbled out of the shower and back into bed to rest for a few minutes of lazy kissing and Alex's breathless compliments that left Hanna reeling with happiness. As Hanna lay comfortably against Alex's panting chest, he squinted at the clock and managed to read the red digits: 5:43. So, it was the twenty-fifth of November at the aforementioned time and let it be noted for all the official records that Hanna had just given head for the first time. Despite lacking good technique, he'd still managed to get Alex off, which was the greatest reward on the planet. Which was only topped when Alex asked:

"Do you want eggs or waffles for breakfast?"

Hanna's life was certainly awesome.

**pqpq**

After Alex got up to make breakfast, Hanna eventually pushed himself out of bed to get dressed. He pulled on the prior day's pants and the borrowed-but-previously-discarded shirt in order to have something on when he jetted downstairs to the frozen tundra to get to his car. Managing to get all the buttons done, he found his missing striped sock tangled in the sheets and pulled both of them on before leaving in the direction of the front door.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said, as he shoved his feet into his checkered shoes.

"It'll be ready when you get here," was the reply, as Hanna reached for his coat. But instead of removing it from the hook, Hanna took Alex's jacket instead. When he pulled it on, it smelled like all the spices from the coffee shop which overshadowed the scent of leather in a way that Hanna found nice. Zipping it up, Hanna closed the door behind him and took the stairs down to the icy parking lot. It was freezing outside, so Hanna jammed his hands into the pockets as he walked, discovering that Alex had left his keys in one pocket and his wallet in the other. Because he was curious, Hanna hurried to his car—the driver's side door didn't lock, so it opened when he yanked the frozen handle—and got inside to escape the elements. While shaking in the driver's seat, Hanna pulled out Alex's wallet to look at it. The first thought that came to mind was _old_, because the leather was torn and peeling, but then Hanna amended with the thought that the wallet had _character_ due to its obviously well-used state. And even though it was kind of an invasion of privacy, Hanna could not contain his urge to know more about Alex. They never really seemed to talk a lot about their pasts; in fact, the most they knew about each other in _that_ department was from the revealing conversation in the break room earlier that week. Because he sought this knowledge, it was without hesitation that Hanna opened it. He found that the tri-fold wallet had about the same thinness as his: Alex had about six dollars cash to his name. On the side, there were a few credit cards, a library card, and his driver's license. Hanna pulled it from behind the plastic and laughed softly to himself, because even someone as good-looking as Alex could photograph badly when the BMV stood behind the camera. Behind the license, he found a business card that read:

アレクサンダーハーパー

英語ALT

JETプログラム2008

ah323 {at} chb . jp . edu

The collection of symbols meant nothing to Hanna as he ran his chilled thumb over the raised lettering. He found it amazing that Alex could read whatever it said and made a mental note to ask him more about Japan sometime. Maybe they could even rent some old samurai movies for fun one night, too. Smiling to himself, Hanna turned the card over, discovering that it was double-sided. The English equivalent on the back took away all the mystery from before:

Alexander Harper

English ALT

Jet Program 2008

ah323 {at} chb . jp . edu

He put it back with the license as he had found it—nodding to himself as he told himself, yes, they would have to rent some Japanese movies in the future—and was about the close the wallet when something caught his eye: the tip of a white border peeking out from beneath the main layer of cards. Taking hold of it, Hanna pulled and found that it was a picture. The edges were worn and a bit bent as if from constant handling. Just the sight of it made the coldness in the car dissipate completely: the photo Hanna held in his hands was of him and Alex from their second or third date—whenever Hanna had convinced Alex that it would be fun to have their pictures taken in a photo booth at the local movie theatre—which showed the both of them smiling, kind of shyly, but nicely. Hanna conceded that he didn't even look half-bad, not like the one he had taped on the fridge at his house. But still, to know that Alex looked at his so often—the fingerprints and the way that the photo curled perfectly in his palm attested to this—made Hanna even happier than he had been previously. It had been a long time since he'd felt so _loved_ by someone else that Hanna couldn't get rid of his giddy smile when he returned to the apartment with his bag. He had just stepped inside and hung up Alex's coat when he heard the sound of plates being set out on the table meant for two. It smelled like eggs and bacon and fresh coffee. The clock on the wall said that it was only 5:51.

"Hey, there you are," Alex said, catching sight of him. He had his work shirt on, but no tie, and was smiling as he set a plateful of delicious breakfast down in the center of the table. And for some people, that wouldn't have been much of anything, but to Hanna, it was _everything_ and a box of Triscuits. He dropped his bag on the floor and took the two paces across the small apartment to hug Alex tightly around the middle in gratitude.

"Thank you…" Hanna murmured.

"It's just scrambled eggs," Alex replied, sounding amused at Hanna's response to such a simple thing. But he didn't know that Hanna meant the _thank you_ for everything: being so nice and patient and just unconditionally caring. For telling Hanna it was okay when he needed to hear it; for always saying the right thing at the right time. It was a _thank you_ for their relationship that was hot as much as it was wonderfully fulfilling; for the loving way that Alex handled his photograph. And, of course, the _thank you_ was for the way Alex insisted on making him breakfast.

"And bacon," Hanna said, because it helped him quell the urge to say: _You're amazing. I love you_. "You made bacon, too."

"You're welcome, then," he replied, and Hanna felt him kiss the top of his head. "C'mon and let's eat before it gets cold."

Yeah. So, the day had started at 4:04, but it was perfect and breakfast was delicious so it was completely worth it.

**pqpq**

I wrote this half-porn during a church broadcast at work. They were like "CAST OUT THE SINNERS" and shit. Basically, I was laughing at how many times I could write _cock _without having God smite me. I'm a bad, bad person. SO, I fixed it with fluff at the end. Because we all like it, even if some of you don't want to admit it.

**By the way, my dearest haters**: if you're going to hate on my "trashy and embarrassingly bad" fanfic, please use grammatically correct English. I just can't take the most of you seriously due to your consistently horrendous spelling, punctuation, and usage errors. When you've evolved past the stage of chat speak and can actually utilize the English language properly, I'll consider your insults with a bit less skepticism. Thanks.

**Dhampir72**


	8. Tea

A/N: You guys are great. Sorry to all my DA fans, but I did have to censor all the previous naughty parts, just because I didn't want someone reporting me. It would suck to get booted for something as amazing as the shower sex in the last chapter. Right? And speaking of amazing, let's get back to this pairing, because Hanna/{…} is my favorite forever.

And, by request, this is PART 1 of 2.

**pqpq**

Hanna was treading in unknown waters.

He'd never had a boyfriend before—or whatever he and Alex happened to be, which felt boyfriend-y but could have not been boyfriend-y for all Hanna knew—so everything was new and exciting and overall scary, but kind of amazing too. He and Alex began spending more and more of their free time together, and even some of their not-so-much-free-time as well. It felt so different, but so _good_ at the same time to go out and do even the most ordinary of things, like grocery shopping and slaving over laundry at the coin Laundromat around the corner from Alex's apartment. Really, the whole having a relationship thing wasn't as stressful as Hanna thought it might be, because Alex was pretty chill about a lot of things, mainly Hanna's bad habits and tendency to flail when he was nervous or excited or much of anything at all really. And Hanna wasn't the only one who had his peculiarities. He came to realize this after practically spending every night over at Alex's place {except for Wednesday nights when Alex went to Kendo practice at a dojo in Portland on on Monday nights because Hanna had the following day's morning shift off and it was weird as hell to wake up when Alex wasn't there in the morning and Hanna had to lock his apartment up before going to work in the afternoon} and in doing so, noticed a few things here and there that were odd. They were small, like Alex's semi-unhealthy obsession with cleaning his kitchen, for instance, or the way it really bothered him when anyone wore shoes in the house, though he wouldn't say anything about it, but Hanna knew that everyone had their quirks. Because of this, the redhead made a great effort to not make a mess anywhere as well as reminding himself to always slip off his shoes at the door when he came over. And they didn't agree on everything, contrary to popular opinion or perception, but it wasn't like they disagreed over anything truly important. Mostly it came down to the fact that Hanna liked television dramas with engaging, somewhat supernatural plots while Alex preferred—when he actually watched TV, which was rare and kind of weird how adverse he was to it most of the time, Hanna thought, but whatever—crime shows, which Hanna found as interesting as watching paint dry. Really, he had no idea what the draw was with the shows that focused on court yuppies and forensic ragtag teams.

{At least they both liked _Firefly_, or else their relationship never would have worked out.}

However, these slight differences in their tastes weren't as make-or-break-it as romantic movies made it seem. Sure, the two of them had their bad habits and their bizarre preferences on some things, but in Hanna's opinion, it just made their relationship all that much _better_. If they agreed all the time, it would have just been unrealistic and not even in the slightest bit entertaining {because it was fun when Alex sometimes teased Hanna about his complete and utter adoration for Jensen Ackles from _Supernatural _and Hanna, in turn, could easily neb him about liking _Bones_ only because David Boreanaz was a hot piece of ass in every show he'd ever been on}. But at the same time, Hanna was thankful—so thankful he would have sacrificed some sort of livestock to the God of Long-Term Relationships—that they never argued. Well, not really. The extent of their arguments consisted of a quiet sort of debate, where Hanna would fight Alex about applying to culinary school while at the same time the redhead refused to send his manuscript anywhere near a publishing firm. They kept coming back to the topic, but in the end, there was always a stalemate. Hanna would pout and Alex would kind of shrug, but then they would be done and over with it, just like that.

Aside from their usual on-going struggle about their futures, they only had one other sort of bump and it concerned their apartments. Alex liked having Hanna over and Hanna was happy to spend the night as often as possible because it just _made his day_ to have breakfast with that man every morning. But the sleepovers were always at Alex's apartment and never at Hanna's, which came up in conversation one day at the end of November when the two of them were rather alone in the corner of the café on one break or another.

"You know, I've never been to your apartment before," Alex said, in a conversational sort of way that made Hanna pause with his coffee half-way to his lips. He'd been hoping to avoid the conversation, but knew that it had been long overdue.

"Yes you have," Hanna answered quickly, diving back into his drink before his mouth could get him into any trouble.

"I've been outside your apartment, but never _inside_ it," Alex reiterated, making it quite plain that he did not consider idling outside in the parking lot while Hanna changed into his work clothes as visiting the place.

"Probably better that way," Hanna said, in a rush as he continued: "It's really small and messy and it smells funky because the lady next door has _way_ too many cats, like, you have no idea."

"Do you not want me to come over?" Alex asked, and damn him for looking so fucking _put out_ because it made Hanna want to do anything to make that expression go away. Well, anything except have him come over to his hellish dwelling. Hanna idly wondered if he'd settle for a blowjob instead, but doubted it would be appropriate to ask.

"Er, no, it's just, I mean," Hanna floundered—what with mental images and the inability to process _that face of complete disappointment—_and then paused before trying again: "Your...your place is just much better than mine. Neighborhood wise and everything. There's _parking_ too!"

"It's okay if you don't want me to come over," he said and the way he smiled said he felt apologetic for his earlier insinuation. But Hanna knew him a little better than that and could read between the lines clearly enough: his mouth said yes while his body language still told Hanna he felt a little shafted by the whole situation. It solidified in Hanna's opinion when he added: "Really, I don't mind."

"It's just...dirty...and the kitchen is...and my landlady, _ugh_, my _landlady_..." Hanna mumbled, putting his head into his hands as he spouted excuses. "It would just be a nightmare for you..."

"It's fine, just forget about it," he said and kissed him before having to help Conrad with the onslaught of people who suddenly decided they needed to have coffee at _that moment_. But aside from that, even though everything about the conversation made Hanna feel like Alex _was_ okay with everything, Hanna _knew_ he'd made a big mistake. Maybe he would think that Hanna didn't want him in his life entirely because they weren't serious? The mere thought of it made him miserable throughout the day. So, Hanna thought on it and pondered and then debated internally some more—and alphabetized backwards somehow so he had to completely redo _everything_ in New Releases—before making his decision.

"I want you to come over," Hanna said, that night at the end of his shift. Alex paused in his mission to shove some sort of cappuccino-making equipment back into the machine only briefly to glance curiously at Hanna.

"What now?" he asked, after he managed to get the grill back in place.

"I want you to come over," Hanna said, and to be more specific: "To my place." Then he rubbed the back of his neck. "Tomorrow, though. After I clean up a bit..."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, but be prepared. It's pretty scary," Hanna warned and he just smiled.

"It can't be that bad," he said and Hanna didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

He just looked too damned happy about the step they'd taken for Hanna to want to crush him with the horrible reality concerning the unfit state of his residence.

Seeing was believing, though and after seeing his place, Hanna had a feeling Alex would change his mind. And so, the following evening after work, they ventured to Hanna's apartment complex. It was shabbier than Alex's, because Hanna had barely any money at all—and speaking of which, he doubted that the few dollars he slipped into Alex's well-loved wallet every now and then were even _close_ to repayment for the battery in his car, which he was determined to pay off, no matter how many times Alex said it was okay and kissed him senseless to prove this point—but it was a roof over his head, so he couldn't really complain. Inside, it was dark and cramped with dangerously slanting stairs and a smell of burned lasagna that had lingered for the near-year Hanna had rented the place. It probably had seeped into the disgusting carpet, which dated back in the Dark Ages for all he knew.

"I told you it's...kind of awful..." Hanna mumbled, already miserable as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

"It's not as bad as my freshman dorm," Alex put in helpfully.

"Nothing is as bad as _my_ freshman dorm," Hanna replied with a shudder of a dark recollection concerning his college experience, "not even this."

Just as the words left his lips, Hanna realized his mistake all too late. The key wasn't even in the lock when he heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open with a foreboding creak. The smell of Pall Malls wafted heavily in the stale air as a figure waddled its way up the rickety stairs with a throaty cough and a plume of dense smoke.

"You didn't pay your rent, Cross."

"S-Sorry, Ms. Blaney. I'll have it for you this weekend," Hanna answered, with hopes that she would take that response and go away, but she wouldn't seem to take that for an answer and got a bit closer.

"You'll have it by the end of the week or I'm booting you out," she said and her flabby face looked even more disgusting by the light of her burning cigarette.

"R-Right," Hanna replied, nervously trying to get his key into the lock before she could do any further destruction.

But alas…

"Who's this sexy chump of change?" she asked huskily, and when she pointed at Alex, her ashes went everywhere.

"Uh..." was all Alex could produce and Hanna heard him shift their take-out bags a bit uncomfortably.

"My friend," Hanna answered simply, hoping she would accept that and not embarrass him.

But that was like asking the cops to not to pull you over when you have weed in the car. Murphy's Law, or something.

"You wanna come downstairs for a good time?" Ms. Blaney asked, and even went so far as to push her sagging breasts out a little further. Hanna didn't have to _see_ Alex recoil, because he could hear it. The whole situation might have been funny, except for the fact that it was Ms. Blaney, who was probably one of the few female rapists in the world.

"Uhhh..._no_..." Alex said, and his voice was rather small by the time he got out that word of denial.

"You're missin' out, sweet cheeks," she replied, and began to saunter away. "But if you get lonely, I'll always be in room 101."

"Uhh..." was Alex's intelligent response as she coughed her way down the stairs.

"'night, Ms. Blaney," Hanna said and finally got the door open by shoving his shoulder against it. But the damage had already been done, clear enough by the manner in which Alex stood out in the hall even after Hanna went inside, probably as the result of the landlady breaking his brain. Hanna had to lead him inside by the hand.

"I'm...I don't even..." Alex tried to say, but Hanna understood.

"She does that to everyone, don't worry about it," Hanna said, and closed the door behind him once they were inside. And really, there wasn't much to look at once they got there. It was about one and a half rooms with a cranny of a bathroom and the tiniest, most outdated kitchen on the planet {because who seriously painted shit avocado green anymore?} where the hippest thing happened to be the microwave. In the main space, the overhead light needed a new bulb because it was way too dark, but not dark enough that the cracks in the walls and the threadbare carpet could go unnoticed. It was the cleanest the place had been in months, in sad actuality, but despite the hasty cleaning from the night before—Hanna went all out and even lit candles and stuff to make it smell better, but there was no fixing how dingy his apartment really was—it didn't look too bad, though it was still pretty sucktacular. Compared to Alex's flat, with the nice wood floors and no clutter and windows that let so much light inside, Hanna's place ranked first on the depressing and awful scale.

"So...this is...it..."

But somehow, Alex didn't judge—or if he did, he did so silently—because they had a nice night cramped up on Hanna's uncomfortable bed—he didn't have a couch, so it was straight to the mattress they went—eating Chinese food and watching _House M.D._ On FOX. They even made out a bit during the commercials and throughout the majority of the news before deciding to call it a night. Hanna would have wanted it to go further if he hadn't been so tired—all the nervousness and such that had been building for two days about the scenario had left him more exhausted than he thought—but Alex seemed content with the choice they settled down like usual for the evening.

But Hanna forgot about all the things that he had taught himself to ignore throughout the Sandman's hours, like the arguing couple in 406 directly above him, who thought that 2am was a great time to start throwing shit at each other. It made the guy's dog in 201 start barking, and then the older lady's Beagle from 318 went crazy. Somehow the noise made someone's car alarm start blaring.

And then the cops came.

Then the fire department, because apparently the arguing couple resorted to flame throwing to express their wrath.

Needless to say, Hanna slept through the majority of this due to his familiarity with the noise, at least that was until the smoke alarms started going off {Hanna had to get on a chair to disable his because it was annoying as fuck} at about 3:30 or so. But while Hanna had been sleeping, Alex had been awake since the start of it, which accounted for his looking like utter shit in the morning. And then the redhead felt his guilt welling up when Alex tried to take a shower, which started out with some very inventive swears and then his voice coming wearily from the other side of the door:

"Hannaaa...where's the hot water...?"

"Um...I don't really, well, you see, the hot water hasn't worked in a few weeks so..." Hanna began, but stopped and winced at the pitiable sound Alex made with the news.

"'kay..." was his eventual response.

"I'll make coffee," Hanna said, as some sort of incentive and immediately set out to make some. But when Alex emerged, shivering from the cruel domain of an insufferable shower, Hanna ran into another problem with his apartment: lack of food and apparently everything else necessary to live {ie, make a good cup of coffee}. The milk in his fridge had gone bad a long time ago and he had no sugar—last time he'd had a bag, the mice had gotten into it, then the bugs, and it was just disgusting so there you go—so all he had to offer was a strongly bitter beverage to his very miserable guest.

"Do you hate me forever?" Hanna asked, because Alex looked like he'd been hit by a truck or some equivalent. And even though he had huddled beneath the blankets, clutching his unsweetened coffee for heat, Alex smiled. It was tired, but still a smile and it made Hanna feel a little less like a douche with a shitty apartment and nothing to make a good cup of coffee.

"No," he said, and Hanna knew honesty when he heard it, though the somewhat shamed grin that followed told Hanna that something else was coming. "Er…would _you _hate _me_ if I never came back?"

"What? You mean you don't want to come over and see me again?" Hanna asked, with mock hurt coloring his tone and expression.

"Never, ever again," Alex replied and it made Hanna collapse into a full-out fit of laughter. Alex laughed a bit too, but when Hanna had gotten in control of himself again, he reiterated himself: "You know I was serious, right? Never, ever again."

Hanna just smiled and kissed him.

"Got it."

**pqpq**

It was probably the happiest time of Hanna's life.

Being with another person was kind of like reading a really great book, or some other really awesome metaphor that Hanna couldn't think of at the moment. But, moving on. It was like a super engaging novel, let's say, because there were so many aspects that had to be considered, appreciated, and sometimes pursued. And with all of this, Hanna came to realize that the whole relationship thing came with the expectation of maintaining it. This was not a chore like he had presumed and Hanna found he did not mind this new-found responsibility, because spending time with Alex was easy and effortless while waking up with him every morning soon became the highlight of his otherwise monotonous days. Because of this, Hanna found himself in a state of unnatural giddiness at the start of December—luckily Black Friday had passed in a flurry of busy activity, where Hanna had been in such a damned good mood that he managed to _smile_ at the rudest of the rude while on register, which Toni pointedly said was "creepy as fuck" but that was a longer story for a different day—before the panic began setting in. He realized that Christmas was coming up fast and the holidays were that time of year where the maintenance was pretty fucking important in a relationship. Because of this, Hanna knew that if he fucked up, he was going to fuck up hard.

Like usual.

"Who burst your bubble, Sunshine?" Toni asked conversationally, one afternoon, when she and Hanna had been put on decorating duty. Their entire store had to be "Dressed for Success" as their managers had put it, which meant garlands, lights, and that fake snow that came in the can, which they had been forced to spray on every window for the proper holiday effect {even though it was snowing like a bitch outside, so what the hell, they didn't _need_ to do the fake shit everywhere}. Then there were the knick-knacks and shiny things made out of colored aluminum foil to put _everyfuckingwhere_ in addition with hanging new signs and making sure that the bathroom smelled like Santa's goddamn workshop. In Hanna's opinion, the whole thing equated to the biggest clusterfuck ever, but he supposed he didn't mind. After all, it was better than the storeroom _and_ they were slated to help decorate the cafe later, so he'd get to see Alex and—

Oh, yeah.

Alex.

_Fuck._

It just made Hanna's angst intensify exponentially.

"Fuck, Toni, I just don't know what to do," Hanna mumbled, steadying her ladder as she pulled another few feet of garish garland to tack up over the children's department.

"About what?" she asked.

"This whole...Christmas thing..." Hanna replied, defeated.

"Whaddaya mean? It's a bunch of eating and drinking, and then if you're lucky, you get laid," Toni answered easily. Hanna flushed, but didn't say anything in return. Honestly, after the sexiest romp in the shower _ever_, he and Alex hadn't really gotten further than that—which was really great, as in, _really_ great because damn it felt good when Alex touched or sucked or really did _anything_ to him and Hanna, call him a slut, kind of liked giving head, especially now that it seemed like he was getting much, much better at it—and it always left Hanna wanting more. They'd tried to do more, of course, but by the time the two of them managed to drag their sorry asses to Alex's apartment and eat something for dinner, they were too tired to do anything else but maybe make out while muddling their way through one program or another on television. It mostly resulted in the two of them falling asleep on the couch, where Hanna found he quite liked lying on top of Alex like he was a comfortable body pillow. It was nice, Hanna thought, because he'd never been able to cuddle with someone, but it left him wondering about things even more than before. Were they boyfriends or just friends with benefits? And would Alex want to spend Christmas with him either way? What would they do? And would asking to get a tree be too much? Did Alex even _celebrate_ Christmas?

Did he _want_ to?

"It's just…I've never been together with someone on Christmas before so…" Hanna said, uselessly fumbling for the correct words.

"You're worried about the whole gift giving thing, aren't you? It's the old not-knowing-what-to get-and-then-on-top-of-that-thinking-if-the-gift-is-too-big-then-it-means-you're-pushy-but-if-it's-too-small-then-it-means-you-don't-care-enough scenario," Toni replied quickly, like the relationship guru she was.

It only served to give Hanna a spaz attack.

"Wh-what? W-Wait. Holy _shit_ I wasn't even thinking about presents…" Hanna answered, leaning his forehead against the ladder. How could it have slipped his mind one of the most important things about the holiday? _Presents_. As in, _gifts_. Those wrapped things that people tended to exchange on Christmas or any other religiously-but-now-Hallmark-owned occasions. Hanna knew in that moment that he was utterly _screwed_ and he made a dejected sound as he mumbled: "Fuck, how could I forget?"

"Uhh, it's okay?" Toni tried to console him, but her attention was quite focused on hanging a few ornaments from the garland to give him too much sympathy.

"Oh, man…" Hanna grumbled. Not only did he not know how to bring up the subject of Christmas and what that meant for him and Alex, but now he didn't even have a gift in mind.

"And speaking of semi-important stuff, isn't your anniversary coming up too?" Toni asked.

"A-Anniversary?" Hanna repeated, like a retarded parrot.

He'd forgotten something _else_ too?

"You know. Your one month anniversary?" Toni elaborated, and went so far as to grin down at Hanna. "You guys have been pretty naughty for only being together that long."

"The pot's calling the kettle black?" Hanna replied, cheeks hot.

"Touché," Toni said.

"But beside all of that, Toni, I mean…do dudes celebrate anniversaries?" Hanna asked, thinking maybe it was just a girl thing and he wouldn't seem like the worst boyfriend on the planet if he kind-of-sort-of-okay-totally-failed remembering that.

"I dunno, Hanna, I'm not a dude," she replied, straightening out a few of the lights on the garland.

"But…you know everything?" he tried reasoning, because Toni had to know. She was the only one who knew all of the information in the world about dating and the things that came along with it {even though the initial information she'd given to Hanna about Alex had mostly been incorrect, the redhead accredited it to the fact that she had gotten the details second hand from a very dense green-eyed boy who worked in the same café, so these previous transgressions were waived in his mind}. If she didn't know, Hanna was utterly fucked. Up the creek without a paddle. Stranded in the middle of Bumfuck Egypt with no roadmap.

Etcetera.

"Babe, as nice as that is, I _don't _know. Your relationship is yours and if you guys want to celebrate your anniversary, then you do it. If not, you don't. It's as simple as that," she said and then stopped fiddling with the garland. "How's this look?"

"Crooked as shit."

Before Hanna could answer, that response vocalized itself from the direction of Multimedia. It was Veser, who apparently decided to grace them with his unpleasant presence while on break. He stood there with his arms crossed and usual scowl, but when Toni smiled at him, it made Veser's expression soften somewhat. Hanna found it amazing that Toni could pacify Veser to the point where the redhead did _not_ want to chuck a brick right into his face.

"So, that means it's perfect, right?" she asked, and hung one last ornament on the garland before making her way down the ladder.

"Whatever. This Christmas stuff is so lame," Veser said.

"It's festive," Toni replied, grasping onto Hanna's hand as she took the last few rungs a bit shakily. He would have said something about her poor choice of shoes—seriously, who the hell thought of putting tiny ass heels on a pair of knee high boots anyway?—but Veser was all about getting in his five minutes of ToniTime so Hanna missed his opportunity.

"It's stupid," Veser countered.

"You're stupid," Toni said, and once she was on solid ground, went to give Veser a playful push. He tugged on the end of her ponytail and she laughed, mussing up his hair as they walked off together. It was great that they were ridiculously cute and all, but that didn't help Hanna's current situation of wondering what the hell he was going to do.

And worse yet, they still had half the store to decorate.

**pqpq**

At least Hanna wasn't a complete douche.

Or at least that was the impression he got after his conversation with Alex later that evening near closing time. He had brought the remaining boxes of Christmas junk, tools, and the ladder into the café to get to work, before starting behind the counter to work on lights. The customers from the day began to wind down close to five, so it was really just a relaxing couple hours where Hanna tried not to fall off his ladder while sneaking as many possible glances at Alex as possible. It was even harder to try not to fall when he realized that more than half the time, Alex had been glancing back at him. How that man could still make his face heat up hotter than a griddle and make his stomach feel like he was on a roller coaster, Hanna had no idea, but he loved every second of it. And maybe it was the fact that Alex was there, admiring him from below, that Hanna got the guts to ask when they were alone:

"Alex, are we boyfriends?"

"Of course," he replied, and it was immediate, without any sense of hesitation at all; Hanna didn't even hear him pause in replacing the glassware beneath the counter. It made Hanna grip onto his ladder as he swooned like a five year-old girl with a steadfast crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. "Well, I guess if it's okay with you."

"Okay with me?" Hanna repeated, dazed and holding onto the top rung for dear life.

"If you don't want to label it, you don't have to," Alex replied as a sort of explanation.

"I'm all for labeling. Labeling is awesome. It has to be my favorite thing to do, you know, labeling," Hanna rambled, and felt like punching himself.

Open mouth, insert foot.

"Then it's settled. We're boyfriends," Alex said, and when Hanna peeked down at him with hot cheeks, he saw that Alex's was smiling his genuine sweep-you-off-your-feet-and-then-fuck-you-silly smile. Hanna never thought he'd die of happiness, but it kind of felt like it, especially with his head all light and dizzy. That sensation of giddiness remained, plastering a smile permanently on his lips as he worked to hang garlands and ornaments from the overhanging ceilings. Even when the main store lights went down and Hanna saw everyone migrating towards the doors to leave, he continued to decorate until he had finished everything. And though everyone had already left, at the bottom of the ladder, Alex stood waiting for him with a ready-made cup of sweet-smelling apple cider. His _boyfriend_.

Damn, that felt _awesome_ to say.

"They look really good so far," Alex said, handing him the Styrofoam container once Hanna was on flat ground again. He was smiling a bit, looking up at the decorations which had finally extended to his little corner of the bookstore. In Hanna's opinion, his work—traditional, but not overbearing in style—looked a lot better than the rest of the place, where he was convinced someone had thrown up Christmas _everywhere_. The amount of red and green was actually a bit nauseating in all actuality, especially in New Releases, where Hanna had been slated for indentured servitude for the rest of the holiday season.

"They're okay," Hanna replied, flushing as he tried for modesty.

"Well, I like them," Alex said, "and I'm not really into the whole Christmas thing either."

"Really?" Hanna asked, and latched onto the conversation as if for dear life. One of his nagging questions had been answered—and splendidly too, now that they really were _boyfriendsholycrapfuckyes_—but a few still remained and the Christmas issue was one of them. He attempted to sound nonchalant as he added: "Why's that?"

"I dunno. Just never been crazy about it, I guess," he replied and Hanna recalled his previously frustrating encounters with Alex's unintentional habit to be too vague about _everything_. But it was okay, he presumed, because it was at least an answer.

Kind of.

"What about you?"

"I like it," Hanna said, turning the warm cup around in his hands as he struggled to find the correct words to convey what he wanted next without making it sound too sappy. "Even though, I mean…after my parents died, I haven't celebrated it as much, but I still like the holiday." It was a half-truth, after all, because Hanna did enjoy the time of year where everything smelled good and there were cheery songs on the radio and everyone wore festive, cheesy vests that were ridiculous, but somehow endearing. Christmastime had to be the best few weeks of the year because there were parties with lots of food—no matter where Hanna worked, there was a potluck sort of thing, even at Target back in Salem, where he had suffered the year previous—and everything awesome. But it was also the saddest time for Hanna, because during the evenings, Hanna felt the loneliest. It was because he knew that other people were celebrating happily with friends and family while he was not and it wasn't jealousy as much as it was pure _want_ to experience that again. That feeling of desire increased over the years he sat alone on Christmas Eve with no tree and no presents and no good meal or family or anything at all. He visited his parents' graves in the morning and then returned home by evening to sit alone and maybe watch reruns of old Christmas cartoons or eat something too sweet, which always made him sick no matter what.

And he cried, sometimes, but that was too depressing to think about, so he didn't.

"If that's the case, what're you doing on Christmas Eve?" Alex asked.

"Er…nothing…" Hanna replied, because he just didn't have the heart to tell Alex about his self-pitying ritual. He had a feeling it would just make him worry, like Hanna knew he had the tendency to do—even if he wouldn't say anything, Hanna could always see the little line that formed between Alex's eyebrows when he was concerned—even over the smallest of things.

"Then let's spend Christmas together," Alex said, and he actually sounded—for the first time since the conversation began—like he was excited about the holiday.

"R-Really?" Hanna asked.

"Well, yeah," was his simple answer and his smile was just so nice that Hanna felt his own quirking at the corners of his lips. "I can make dinner, too. Whatever you want."

The prospect of _not_ spending Christmas alone _on top of_ eating Alex's delicious food was like pure win at the end of a double rainbow.

"Yeah, that sounds _awesome_," Hanna replied, enthusiastic about eating Alex's food as much as he was about enjoying Christmas with his unfairly hot boyfriend. Then maybe throw in some mistletoe and one of those old claymation movies about an insecure Rudolph and then some hot sex to top off the evening.

Hanna had a feeling that baby Jesus would be fucking proud.

"It's settled then," Alex said, and he seemed a bit happier, too, as he asked: "so what do you want for dinner?"

And Hanna was all chattering and suggestions as they left for the night, proposing hams and other outrageous dishes that he'd only seen on TV while Alex held his hand as they walked to their cars and laughed at the ideas, promising him something delicious no matter what.

**pqpq**

For the first time in a long time, Hanna was looking forward to Christmas.

"You're so happy it's disgusting," Toni said, a few days later, when Hanna's smile just wouldn't diminish. "You know that, right?"

"Hey, don't hate," Hanna replied, but couldn't say it seriously because his grin was completely from ear to ear.

They'd been banished back to the less-than-cheery stockroom, where Hanna had been forced on unpacking duty while Toni got to scan stuff with her laser gun—which was ten times more fun than opening boxes and moving things any day—and type numbers into the computer. Usually, she was all shits and giggles at getting the easier job while Hanna slaved over one horrendous task or another, just because he happened to have a penis. But that day, Toni's voice held no entertainment and her expression matched the tightness of her jaw.

Something was off.

"Um…you okay?" Hanna asked, when she did not come up with any sort of witty retort.

"Do you and Alex ever fight?" she inquired, so bluntly that Hanna was left blindsided for a moment.

"Er…not really…" he answered honestly. Perhaps too honestly, but the question still prompted a very suspicious: "Why?"

"It's nothing, forget about it," Toni said, and began keying in information a little more vigorously than necessary.

"Toni…" Hanna began, but then stopped when she suddenly began speaking:

"I mean, I understand that people fight all the time, but seriously, this is fucking stupid! I was just asking a _question_ and he got all fucking defensive on me like nobody's business and, _thatlittlefucker_, if he was here right now _I'd punch him in the face_."

Hanna thought that she was going to break the scanning gun with the mere force of her grip.

"That's…um…yeah, sorry?" Hanna replied, trying for an understanding tone, though he doubted it conveyed correctly. She put down her scanner roughly and sat down on one of the unopened boxes, putting her head into her hands, leaving Hanna to awkwardly stand beside her and rub her back in a comforting friend sort of way. "Um, you wanna talk about it or…?"

"I dunno, this whole thing is just…" she began, but then stopped and it sounded like she wanted to cry. Hanna panicked, because women crying were at the list of the top 5 things that made him freak out the most {ranking quite high with clowns, liposuction, and the Waking Up To Find Out That You Really Did Walk Out of the House Naked and It Wasn't Just a Dream so Now You're Going to Jail for Public Indecency scenario) in the world.

"What happened?" Hanna asked, and sat down on the box next to her. He kept his palm against her back in case she needed it, but hell if he knew what really to do in a situation like that to make her feel better. Someone really should have written the How to Be a Good Friend When Your Good Friend Needs a Good Friend manual so Hanna knew how to respond.

"Veser's just been…you know…" Toni said, trailing off when she was unable to find the correct adjective.

"An asshole?" Hanna asked, trying for a noun instead. She gave a weak sort of chuckle, but didn't remove her hands from her face.

"Besides that," she said, and sniffed. "It's just…recently, he's been kind of…different."

"Different how?" Hanna asked, because it was like pulling fucking teeth without Novocain to get any information out of Toni about the issue.

"Like…more distant, I guess," Toni replied. Hanna thought back to the past week or so, but hadn't seen any noticeable change in Veser. He was still the annoying douchebag that Hanna couldn't help but call his friend because, even though he was an asshat, Veser was an endearing asshat in a very strange, very complicated way.

"Maybe he just doesn't like the holidays?" Hanna offered.

"No, it's not that…" Toni said, and rubbed at her eyes before moving her hands from her face completely. She looked normal, except for the redness around her lids and nose which proved she'd been battling tears. Hanna could only be thankful that she hadn't cried, because he really wouldn't have known what to do. "He's…I mean…I noticed that he's got a lot of…_bruises_ lately…"

"You think…he's fighting?" Hanna asked seriously, because it was something to be concerned about, after all. Alex had mentioned Veser came from a troubled home. Maybe he was out street fighting for money or something? Or getting involved with gang activity?

"I don't know, Hanna, I just…don't know…"

And Hanna sure as hell didn't know either.

**pqpq**

It was WWII all over again.

During their lunch break later that day, Hanna thought he was in the middle of a battle zone. All of Toni's vulnerability had dissipated back in the stockroom, leaving her angrier than a kitten that had been tied onto a firecracker. Veser rose to her challenging nature, leaving Hanna, Alex, and Conrad as the victims of their wrath. Hanna came to know, in that mere half-hour, what the victims of tornadoes and other natural disasters felt like.

"Well you know what? _Fine!_ Just _fine!_" Toni said, after they'd sniped at each other for the majority of their break.

"Yeah, fuckin' fine!" Veser replied.

As they growled at each other from opposite ends of the table, Conrad cleared his throat and tried for civil conversation.

"So, I hear that a lot of snow's moving in," Conrad said.

"Really?" Alex asked, trying to escape the awkwardness with a feigned interest in the subject.

"Yeah. From Canada," Conrad said.

"Man, Canada," Hanna added and gripped Alex's hand under the table at the radiating waves of rage just rolling off Toni and Veser's silently shaking forms.

"Yeah," Conrad said, and he looked nervously at the glaring couple.

"Cool," Alex put in, securing his grip around Hanna's fingers.

"Yup," Hanna said.

"That's it, we're fuckin' done," Veser said, slamming his fist on the table before standing up.

"_Awesome_," Toni replied, and stood too, "best day of my life."

Veser actually looked openly hurt for a fraction of a second before he retorted nastily:

"Whatever. You're a bitch."

"You're such a dick, Veser," Toni answered, and even though the words came easily enough, Hanna could see that it was killing her to say every syllable. "I don't want to ever see you again."

"Well, I don't ever want to see _you_ again either, so there," Veser said, and then just for kicks, glared at Hanna, "or _you_ either."

"What did I do?" Hanna asked, because really, he'd just been sitting there, trying to eat his ham sandwich in between swears and not bugging anyone at all. He didn't deserve that shit, but Veser's crappy attitude had flared into something dreadful, and Hanna couldn't get out his insult fast enough.

"You're her friend, so by default, I don't want to see your ugly mug again either," Veser said.

"This is going too far, guys," Alex said, trying to appeal to both Veser and Toni as diplomatically as possible.

"Yeah. So, leave us the fuck out of it," Conrad said, without any pretense of politeness.

"No. This is the official start of WWII," Veser said.

"There's already been a WWII," Conrad replied. "So this would technically be WWIII."

{"Confags, you're not helping," Hanna said and Alex kind of sighed in an exhausted sort of way.}

"No. It's WWII," Veser declared. and slapped his hands down on Alex's and Conrad's shoulders. "We're the Axis Powers and they're the Allied Powers. Don't be their friends anymore. Simple as that."

"Did your mom drop you on your head as a kid?" Conrad asked.

"This is a really stupid idea," Alex said.

{"Or maybe she rammed you into a doorknob?" Conrad added.}

"No, it's a _fucking great idea_," Toni said, and grasped onto Hanna's shoulder a little harder than he thought necessary.

{"Um…Toni…you're…you know that hurts…" Hanna mumbled.}

"_Isn't it_?" Veser replied with nothing but poison in his tone.

"If that's the case, I'm Belgium," Conrad declared, going the route of neutrality.

"I'm not involved at all," Alex said.

"Bullshit, you're Japan," Veser said immediately. "And I'm Germany. Conrad's Italy, because he's a Faggot."

{"Hey, you're kidding right?" Conrad cried, but everyone ignored him. "I'm _not_ gay. And Italy was _Fascist,_ you fucking idiot."}

"You know that the Axis Powers _lost_ right?" Alex asked Veser, looking up at him with a heavy shadow of doubt.

"But they were awesome," Veser replied with vindication.

"Japan got annihilated by nuclear weapons," Alex said and then added: "After the Holocaust and everything, Germany got screwed pretty hard too."

"Whatever. We're awesome. And Toni's England, because Germany hates the Brits more than anyone else," Veser said. Toni looked like she really wanted to jag his eyes out with something rusty and blunt. "And Hanna's America. Alex, you have to hate him because of Hiroshima."

"This isn't even funny, in any way at all," Alex said, seriously looking offended by the entire thing.

"You're really fucked up, you know that, right?" Conrad asked, just to put in his two worthless cents.

{"Toni…I think I'm bleeding…" Hanna said weakly, because her nails were digging in really deep by that point.}

"Who gives a shit what you think?" Veser asked Conrad.

"C'mon, Hanna, we don't have to listen to their shit anymore," Toni told him, and grabbed the redhead from his chair before he had a second to protest.

"That's right! Get the fuck out!" Veser called as Toni pulled him out the door of the {now-empty-because-everyone-else-had-fled} break room and into the store. Immediately in the mess of green and red and shiny shit and cheery tunes, she began crumbling into pieces. He could tell that she was trying not to cry as her grip became weaker on Hanna's shoulder.

"Toni…" Hanna began.

"Just, don't," she said and eventually let him go. But Hanna followed her, not wanting Toni to be alone in her state. It was a good choice, because they hadn't even made it back to the stockroom when she leaned against the back wall of Multimedia and sunk to the ground in a little ball of despair. Her sobbing was quiet, but Hanna could hear every pained intake of breath and it made his heart _clench_ in the worst way possible. He could only sympathize with her, because he'd only experienced a fraction of her pain—one time, when he had been at his own apartment on a Wednesday night while Alex was at Kendo, Hanna imagined what would happen if Alex were to leave him and the _thought_ left Hanna gasping and in so much pain that he wanted to _die_—and crouched next to her to give whatever sort of comfort he could. She leaned against him and Hanna instinctively put his arms around Toni, intending to stay as long as she needed to get it all out. And Toni was a good five minutes or so into crying when Hanna felt a bit of dread creeping up on him at the faint _tick tick tick tock _ticking that slowly came closer and closer. Mr. Tibenoch appeared around the shelf of DVDs and Hanna half-expected him to start ranting immediately about improper behavior and whatnot, which would just be an awesome end to an awesome lunch break where everything had fallen to utter _shit_, but…

He didn't.

In fact, his face—which had always irked Hanna for reasons he could not explain—had a different sort of quality to it than usual. The irritable, annoyed expression was gone, replaced instead with something that Hanna couldn't read. It was softer somehow, and Hanna was rendered completely speechless when the manager came closer without a mean word at all. Toni must have come to her senses enough during this time, because she glanced up from Hanna's shoulder before quickly began wiping at her eyes while mumbling all kinds of apologies. What they were for, Hanna wasn't sure, too consumed with wonder and puzzlement as Tibenoch produced a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her. She stared and Hanna stared and the two of them were so damned confused by it that neither of them could do anything but blink owlishly at the gesture. Toni somehow recovered enough to accept the cloth, and replied with a stuffed up sounding _thank you_.

"Why don't you take a break?" Mr. Tibenoch offered, straightening up to his full height. "If you'd like, I have hot tea in my office."

"Okay," Toni said and even Hanna could tell that she was numbed from the events with Veser as much as she was with the kindness directed at her from the usually-obnoxious man. Hanna helped her up and led Toni after Tibenoch, who directed them into a small office at the back of the store that said _Regional Manager_ across the frosty glass of the door. Inside, Hanna found it to be a bit stuffy and dark, with too many books, folders, and files to be comfortable. But there was a semi-comfortable leather couch with cracked cushions in the corner, and Tibenoch waved them towards it as he removed his loud pocket watch and put it into the nearest cabinet drawer; the ticking ceased, creating an uneasy quiet. Perplexed by all of this, Hanna quickly sat Toni down and she obediently followed the motion, dabbing lightly at her eyes with the handkerchief. The room smelled like honey and cinnamon, even heavier when Tibenoch poured some hot water from an electric kettle into a mug with a sweet tea bag.

"Here, drink this," he said, handing the cup to her, which Toni took with shaking fingers. Tibenoch also made tea for Hanna and then himself, before seating himself in a decrepit office chair behind the piles of work on his desk. Even beyond the massive stacks, Hanna could see a wooden frame with golden trim standing on the desk beside a chipped, hand-painted vase full of half-chewed pens. On the wall, there were a few framed finger paintings of flowers and rainbows and parks.

There was also one of a dark haired man, a blond woman, and grinning child, holding hands on a yellow beach.

"Thank you, Mr. Tibenoch," Toni said, after a few moments of collecting herself and drinking some of the tea. It had some sort of calming effect, because even Hanna could feel the difference even in himself.

"It's no problem at all," he replied, peering at Hanna and Toni over the rim of his glasses as he added in an unnaturally genial manner: "and please, while you're here in this office, call me Ples."

"Er…" Hanna looked at Toni, who sniffed and went back to her tea, leaving the redhead to reply with an awkward: "Okay, Mr. Tib—Ples…It's, um, real nice of you to do all of this..."

"It's quite alright," he said, and turned his chair a bit to face his mountains of paperwork, which he began integrating into an already existing pile of manila folders at the corner of his desk. "Consider it an apology for the unpleasant manner in which I continuously seem to greet you and your fellow employees. I am truly sorry about my behavior, but please understand that this time of year puts me into quite a state."

"It does look like you're really busy…" Hanna said, and Toni nodded, sniffing to clear up her sinuses. Ples' reply was something along the lines of agreement in regards to the whole being busy thing, which emerged as kind of a hodgepodge of accented syllables tinged with exhaustion and something else that was just so uncharacteristic, Hanna couldn't even begin to understand what it was.

"Thanks, really," Toni said, after she'd stopped crying and finished her tea. Hanna was only half-done, but Toni had already stood up, so he followed. She twisted the handkerchief in her hand—covered in her mascara, tears, and blue lipstick—and added quietly: "I'll, um, wash this for you and return it tomorrow." And before he could reply with anything, Toni quickly made for the door, leaving Hanna behind with only the sound of her retreating heels in the hallway outside.

"Um, sorry. She's having a bad day," Hanna said.

"Understandable," Ples replied. From Hanna's new position beside the desk, he could see the faces in the frame on the desk: a young, blond woman with her arms around a small dark-haired girl with pigtails. Next to the woman's smiling face was... a younger, happier-looking Ples Tibenoch. Hanna almost didn't recognize him because he was devoid of all gray in the photograph {and the redhead had never seen such a happy emotion on the manager's face before} but his nose was unmistakable. The child had been graced with the same feature, but still had a softer sort of beauty to her, most likely from the mother…And then Hanna stopped all train of thought right there, because the idea of Ples Tibenoch being married was just weird as fuck. However, the paintings on the wall and the childish vase holding the pens on his desk were testament enough to the fact that yes, Mr. Tibenoch had a child, as in, he had procreated at one point. It was definitely gross. And weird. Hanna felt awkward just thinking about it. But when Hanna saw Ples look at the photograph too, that feeling was replaced with something heavier. The weight increased when Ples said quietly: "We all have bad days."

"Yeah," Hanna said and he just _knew_. He knew even though Ples said nothing at all.

His family was gone.

"I'm…" Hanna began, but stopped, because it wasn't his place and finished: "…going back to work."

He couldn't say _I'm sorry_ because that was probably the last thing he wanted to hear. It was the last thing Hanna wanted to hear after his parents had died, and every neighbor in the vicinity came over to say those words, over and over again to his face _I'm sorry_. It just made him want to scream _No, you're not. _So, he didn't say it, and excused himself from the dark, gloomy office with that weight heavy in his chest.

And on his way out, Hanna could have sworn that within the drawer, that watch had stopped ticking.

**pqpq**

**OMG. DRAMA LLAMA ATTACKS**.

Just because I've had drama and it's awesome for me XDD

Anyway, this is only part 1. Part 2 will be posted with a bit more angst, but maybe a happier ending. And it's all part of a nutritional breakfast, kiddies, so remember that!

Dhampir72


	9. Champagne

**A/N:** Sorry once again for the delay! As if school wasn't bad enough, four tornadoes touched down on my city and annihilated half our town. The last time we had a tornado was in 1950 and it didn't do anything. 2010 and we got four in one night. The one that touched down about a mile from me was an F3. I was without power for about two days. My high school has to pretty much be rebuilt, as well as a bunch of houses in the area. 500 people were displaced, some trapped in their homes for several hours before rescue crews could arrive. About 20 were injured and sent to the hospital. Luckily there were no fatalities. Also, luckily my 150 year old house didn't experience too much damage. A bit of our roof and some of the porch blew off and behind our house, a few trees fell down too. But everyone is okay. My car is okay. My cats are okay. Everything is okay.

You know what's not okay? Writing this entire chapter and then saving it, only to find it IN FUCKING CHINESE AGAIN. If it was in Japanese, maybe I wouldn't be so pissed. But Chinese. Really...?

**pqpq**

Hanna never thought that sex could be such a complicated process.

Really, he'd thought it was one of those things that you kind of just did instead of planned for, but apparently, Hanna was mistaken, like he was about a lot of things involving relationships {luckily, he and Alex had talked about the anniversary issue and decided that the only time to celebrate such an occasion was on a yearly basis, because the month-to-month bit was just kind of _asking_ for something bad to happen, and it got the both of them off the hook for forgetting about it} and other intimate activities. He came to realize this one night, when Hanna found himself on the receiving end of one of those kisses that reduced him to a horny wreck of moans and sighs and not much else. It was in the middle of that mind-numbing feeling of heat—that made his toes _curl _every time—when Hanna let it slip out past his kiss-bruised lips:

"Let's do it."

And after a breathy exchange where Alex asked if he was sure and Hanna replied that he was, they finally began taking that path. Oh, and it was good and nice and Alex was slow about it to make sure that Hanna really enjoyed himself his first time. And really, Hanna was enjoying things, gripping the headboard when Alex went down on him and even made a wide variety of sounds that probably had the neighbors wondering what sort of animal Alex was keeping in his apartment. But when it came down to things, just like before, Hanna chickened out. It was the sight of the condom that did it—really just an inconspicuous little package, but _Christ_ it was extra large and it left Hanna hyperventilating while wondering how the hell it was going to _fit—_and suddenly, Hanna couldn't breathe. He realized too many things at once: that he was going to lose his virginity when Alex put it _there_ and it was going to _hurt_ and then what if, when it was over, Hanna wasn't any _good_? He'd heard it before from so many people who had gotten laid but admitted that he or she "wasn't that good" so it was just a one time deal. A one night stand. Never to be revisited again. It made Hanna nearly cry, but he was choking on air and couldn't manage any tears.

Well, not until his vision backed away from that near blackness of unconsciousness and he found himself on the receiving end of one of the most comfortably loving embraces of all time.

"Hey, it's okay," Alex said, and kept saying it through his dysfunctional breakdown, but it just made Hanna feel like utter shit. The moment had been ruined entirely and Hanna's arousal had dissipated into despair, which left him battling the flood waters like a levee. And it worked for a while, but the emotion was too much, and like Katrina, completely annihilated his defenses. It was stupid and ridiculous and Hanna _hated himself_ for being such an emotional faggot, but he couldn't help it for some reason. He was about to give himself to the most wonderful person in all existence, who he _wanted_ to take his virginity like nothing else, but when it came down to getting it done, he flaked.

And cried like a little bitch with a skinned knee.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Hanna mumbled, wiping at his eyes until the tears finally stopped because his eyes were too raw to cry anymore. He'd only broken down for a few minutes, but still, Hanna knew for sure that he was not only the biggest pussy on the planet, but the worst boyfriend, too.

"It's okay," Alex replied again, and his arms did not relinquish their hold on Hanna.

"It's not..." Hanna said adamantly, shaking his head against Alex's shoulder, because everything wasn't okay when he couldn't even have sex with the person he'd loved more than anyone in his life. "I really want to, but I don't know why...I'm so fucking lame..." Hanna managed a bitter sort of laugh, but was met with a gentle caress against his hair.

"You're not," Alex said and Hanna didn't have to see his expression to know he was smiling. "I understand entirely."

"I don't even understand it..." Hanna replied with a pathetic sniffle, not knowing how Alex could comprehend something he didn't know himself.

"Hey, I went through this once before too," Alex said, and nudged Hanna's chin up to look at him with _those eyes_ that he'd fallen head over heels for not even two months ago. How lucky was he to be in this man's bed? Hanna felt overjoyed and elated and yet, inadequate all at once. His emotions must have been pretty clear, because Alex quirked a smile and continued: "You know, I was a wreck my first time."

"Really?" Hanna asked, and he knew he blinking owlishly—somewhat hopefully—up at Alex in wonderment. Hanna couldn't imagine someone else reacting as badly as him about sex, especially the ever-cool, ever-awesome, never-freaking-out-about-anything Alex. And it made Hanna ask the simple question, where he tried to recall: had he ever seen Alex in a state that might be considered a "wreck"? The only time Hanna could recall him being anywhere close to An Alex in a Nervous State of Being mode was that sometimes—and very rarely—he incessantly paced. But pacing rapidly for no apparent reason did not equate with completely failing to have sex with the hottest thing on the planet, so Hanna thought he still trumped Alex in failing.

Or so he thought.

"Yeah. It was pretty bad, actually," Alex replied, and looked rather embarrassed. Hanna had to admit that he really liked the way Alex's ears turned red at the recollection of this memory.

"What happened?" Hanna asked, when it seemed like Alex wasn't going to continue.

"Well...I, er, pretty much hyperventilated," Alex answered. "And then threw up. It was kind of a bad night."

"No way," Hanna said, and it was with awe that something so awful could happen to someone that wasn't him. But then he remembered his manners, blushed, and added: "I'm sorry..."

"It's fine. It's all in the past," Alex said, and his finger began curling around that one strand of Hanna's hair that he always liked to twirl. It was comforting in its own way, and made Hanna's smile return from the dark depths of insecurity and instability. "But the point is that I wasn't ready. I pushed something because it felt right, even when it wasn't. So, we can keep trying, but if you don't want to go further, we won't."

"But how will I know...you know?" Hanna asked, and his face was hot, that heat only increasing when Alex kissed him and then smiled in that way that just made Hanna want to _melt_.

"Trust me, you'll know."

**pqpq**

While Hanna waited for his feelings and hormones and whatever-the-shit-else to get in order, WWII raged on.

Toni thought the whole thing was the epitome of stupidity, and when Hanna pointed out that she'd agreed to it, the girl slapped him with a clipboard so hard that he couldn't feel his hand for a good half-hour. She said she had been attempting sarcasm, though Hanna thought she had been serious—because the nail marks in his shoulder were still little pink crescents of a reminder—about the entire situation. But she had just been mad and saying things she didn't want to, so Hanna didn't push it and Toni didn't say anything. Instead, she just did her job quietly, without smiling, blue lips always pulled in a frown that didn't suit her one bit. Meanwhile, that half-sided war continued into the week, led by the only person who really gave a shit about keeping track of all the players: Veser.

It made them all sneak around like they were walking on eggshells.

"He's been unbearable," Conrad confided to Hanna, one day when he'd slipped off to escape Veser's tyranny. "I mean, so unbearable that Tibenoch's a better alternative."

Hanna thought about the man with the framed finger paintings and imagined an empty house waiting for him every night after work, which suddenly made him feel very bad indeed about the dislike everyone harbored for Ples. But Conrad didn't notice that Hanna's feelings about the man had changed—and that sometimes, he even defended him with gentle pleas to give Tibenoch a "break" because who knew what his problems were at home?—and continued to relay more of the authoritarian rule he'd been subjected to since the break up. Hanna really wished he would have been a little quieter about it, because Toni was in the vicinity, pretending not to eavesdrop, but being too obvious that she was doing so. And Hanna knew she had heard, because after Conrad went back to work, she was in a shitty mood for the rest of the day, made all the more shittier when Alex came over during lunch. She didn't outright say anything, but Hanna knew that the sight of the two of them together was like rubbing their functional relationship in her face.

Which led to the lunchtime sessions in the back of Alex's Subaru.

"This is only kind of ridiculous," Alex said, when they huddled into the cold backseat together that afternoon. "And when I say _kind of_, I mean _really_ ridiculous."

"It's not that bad..." Hanna tried for appeasement, snuggling up against him for warmth. They had a thermos each, filled to the brim with reheated, homemade wedding soup that Alex had prepared the previous evening. It was delicious, but Hanna would have preferred not having to consume it wrapped in his parka and Alex's old blue scarf, because eating certainly was difficult was that many layers. However, they discovered that any place in the store wasn't safe from Veser's cruelty and Toni's moody glances, so they went to the one place neither of them could be bothered with them or their drama. This tradition soon extended to breaks as well, where Alex would make sure they both had something hot to drink—some days coffee, other days cider or chai, but always good—while they sat in the back of his car for their fifteen minutes of freedom. And it was kind of nice, because sometimes they got a few extra minutes of kissing in; sometimes a little bit more than kissing, which was always a pleasant surprise. In either case, though, Hanna was left with the taste of a spicy kiss lingering on his lips and the tingling of his skin where Alex had touched him. It always made him want more, but their nightly encounters kept stopping short of the desired outcome, leaving Hanna frustrated at himself and Alex's steadfast—but probably dwindling—patience.

So, Hanna was stuck.

And without Toni to help him, Hanna was completely lost on what to do from there. The blue-haired girl had lost her enthusiasm, it seemed, and didn't smile or tease anymore. Everything was half-hearted, listless almost and Hanna hated every minute of it. Although he didn't like Veser, the obnoxious teen had made Toni happy, and that was the most important thing. If Hanna wasn't so hopeless in his own relationship, he would have tried to repair theirs. However, Veser was unrelenting in his position of the Axis Powers against Toni, who would eventually wave her white flag and quit. Hanna just _knew_ it was bound to happen and that was the last thing she needed, especially when he knew that her auditions were closing in rapidly. He wanted to step in, but he couldn't.

Luckily, Fate or something else _did_.

The call came at about three in the morning, waking Hanna from a dream about one irrelevant tap dancing mammal or another. But the sound of Alex's phone as it continued going off startled him into wakefulness immediately. His boyfriend's response was a little slower, but within three rings, he managed to grab hold of the offensive device and bring it to his ear with a sleepy _Hello_ breathed out against Hanna's shoulder. The redhead strained his ears, but couldn't hear anything beyond the mumbling of the person on the other end. But whatever was said got Alex up immediately and had him turning on lights while throwing on clothes like a natural disaster was coming their way.

"Who was that?" Hanna asked, after Alex hung up the phone.

"Veser," Alex replied, and tucked his phone into his pocket as Hanna put on his glasses and sat up a little more in bed.

"What'd he want?" Hanna asked through a yawn.

"He..." Alex paused and did that thing Hanna noticed he tended to do when about to tell someone something they weren't going to handle well—it happened when something broke at work, or the most recent time when Alex admitted he'd completely forgotten about their anniversary—which meant he looked down and ran a hand through his messy hair like he was trying to find the words. "Remember when I said that Veser...kind of had issues?"

"Yeah…" Hanna replied.

"He had a big one tonight," Alex said, and looked at Hanna seriously. It was a bit unnerving to see him like that. "You might want to call Toni."

"Toni? What for?" Hanna asked, suddenly very awake. "Is Veser okay?"

"She needs to know," Alex replied, and then paused a moment before amending with: "She deserves to know."

"About what?" Hanna inquired, a bit perplexed as to what Alex was talking about. It was three in the morning and they had the early shift tomorrow and Alex was speaking so vaguely that it was all around frustrating for Hanna's sleep-addled mind.

"Veser's father is abusive," Alex said, and winced visibly at the words as if he'd uttered a curse. Hanna, on the other hand, felt like he'd been slapped in the face with a brick or some heavy, painful equivalent. It left him wide-eyed and confused, hoping that perhaps he hadn't heard correctly.

"What?" Hanna asked, and his voice was smaller than usual. His throat felt like it was closing up. After all, he'd known that Veser had problems, but Hanna had thought that his bad attitude had been the cause of the problems at home. But perhaps the bad attitude was the _result_ of the problems at home. The redhead couldn't imagine such a strong-willed, foul-mouthed, and uneven-tempered kid allowing such abuse. And then Hanna recalled the indications they'd all overlooked and couldn't believe he'd so easily ignored the bruises. The black eye. The exhausted looks that shadowed Veser's expression when he thought no one was watching. All of the signs had been there if they would have cared to look.

But they hadn't.

"Veser's father...is an alcoholic," Alex replied quietly, as if he were afraid of someone overhearing him swear in church. He pulled on a long thermal over the t-shirt he'd put on earlier during the call.

"You knew?" Hanna asked, and felt a bit betrayed. Not only that Alex hadn't told him, but that Alex hadn't been responsible to tell anyone else.

"I accidentally found out," Alex answered, as if sensing Hanna's feelings. He came and sat on the edge of the bed, white fingers clasped around his cell phone as he explained: "Veser told me not to tell. He said that if I did, it would make things worse for him, so I didn't"

"But… why didn't he…I mean, he's nineteen…Veser could have left?" Hanna tried, but the words came out jerky and uneven.

"I don't know," Alex replied, and got up to grab some towels out of the bathroom. He also had tucked a plastic first aid kit under his arm. "All I know is what he told me: that tonight was worse than usual. So I'm going to go and pick him up."

"I'll call Toni," Hanna said, already reaching for his phone. "And make coffee."

"Good idea."

**pqpqOOC!VeserandOOC!ToniaheadZOMGpqpq**

When Toni arrived, she was still in her pajamas.

"What happened?" Toni asked, and it was a breathless, desperate question as she unzipped her blue parka and kicked off her galoshes by Alex's front door. When met with her searching expression, Hanna faltered, fumbling for the best words.

"Do you want some coffee?" Hanna asked instead, unable to find the best way to approach the subject. She looked frazzled and like she wanted everything else in the world besides coffee, but nodded anyway. Hanna was glad, because it gave his hands something to do as she bombarded him with questions. All he told her was that Veser was hurt and she needed to come quickly. Alex still wasn't back yet.

"Hanna, seriously," Toni said, leaning on the counter as Hanna fixed her drink. He made the mistake of looking up, caught in the full force of her stare. It held so much emotion that Hanna stopped stirring her coffee, feeling as if in that moment, she was the old Toni who had whispered gossipy secrets to him between the shelves at work with unwavering and sometimes unnecessary seriousness. Only this time, they weren't talking about something as ridiculous as sex or love because her eyes were showing nothing but concern.

"Veser called," Hanna started, watching as Toni's chipped blue nails scraped a bit harder at the end of the counter with every syllable. "He told Alex to come get him. That he'd gotten hurt."

"_What_. _Happened_?" Toni asked, stressing her importance by leaning forward as she emphasized these simple words. Hanna opened his mouth to explain, but stopped when there were footfalls on the landing outside. He could hear Alex's familiar, soothing tenor while Veser grumbled quietly beside him. Knowing that Veser wouldn't just pour out his heart and feelings to the two people he'd considered "enemies" for the past week or so, the redhead made a quick decision. Grasping onto Toni's hand, he pulled her in the direction of Alex's bedroom and closed the door. He left it just cracked so they would be able to hear whatever conversation transpired. Just as he heard the key in the lock, Hanna shut off the bedside lamp too, casting the room in a half-darkness. Veser would know that Hanna was there, but might be more open with his words if he thought Hanna had gone back to bed, or better yet, not even have been woken in the first place. Toni must have understood intuitively—because girls were like that, Hanna knew, always a step ahead—because she perched on the edge of the mattress and stayed absolutely quiet. Hanna joined her.

And they listened.

"Sit down on the couch and let me look at it."

"It's not bad."

"If it's not clotting, it's bad."

Those lines first uttered were not the most comforting to hear. Toni gripped Hanna's wrist in the dark.

"It's fine."

"Put pressure on it."

"What d'you think I'm doing?"

Hanna heard someone get up and go into the kitchen. The freezer door opened and then closed.

"Put this over your eye."

"You're not my mom."

"Don't be a dick."

Alex's voice came through gentle but firm. Veser made an aggravated noise, which was followed by the sound of something plopping onto skin. Hanna figured it was an ice pack. Either that or the bag of peas on the second shelf in the freezer that Alex lamented having bought a few weeks back. The debate over whether frozen was as healthy as fresh seemed like an irrelevant issue when it was soothing a bruise on an abused teenager's face.

"So are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Isn't it fucking obvious?"

A sigh.

"Really."

"You're a fucking idiot."

"What happened?"

There was a long pause, when Veser didn't reply or swear or do anything at all. Beside Hanna in the dark, it was as if Toni had stopped breathing entirely. Her nails were digging into the skin of his wrist in a bruising, cutting-off-the-circulation kind of way.

"He got pissed off again. Drank too much. The usual."

Hanna heard Alex sit on the coffee table. A plastic box opened and then the sound of wrapping, like on bandages and other medical supplies.

"He's never done you this bad before."

"He's never been pissed off like that before."

Alex let that statement linger and didn't say anything.

"It was about my mom."

Hanna could feel Toni leaning closer to hear, as Veser's voice had gone quiet. It was probably the softest that Hanna had ever heard him speak before.

"My dad's been suspecting her of fooling around for a while. Guess he was right, but it fucking pissed him off when he found out it was Lee."

"Lee?"

"Lee Falun. One of my dad's only friends. So you can kind of figure out why he got so fucking crazy over it. Lucky he didn't catch them or else he would have killed both of them right there."

Hanna heard Veser shift the peas over his eye. He let out a small hiss and a few jumbled swears as Alex presumably treated one of his injuries with the antibiotic ointment from his first aid kit. Toni still hadn't relinquished her hold on Hanna, probably in a state of similar shock that Veser's dad had beat him up because his mother was having a scandalous affair with his best friend. It sounded like something on daytime television. Fortunately, Veser's father hadn't gotten his hands on the two or else it would have been one of those daytime-soap-opera-stories-that-ends-with-murder on the eleven o'clock news.

"Fuck, I didn't even know my mom liked him. I knew she hated Dad, but Christ, I didn't think that she was fucking Lee."

"Maybe she wasn't? Maybe she just wanted to get away from your dad."

"Bitch should have said something earlier. I stuck around all those years to make sure that asshole didn't beat her to death and then she goes and repays me by high-tailing it out of town without telling me shit. Left _me_ to deal with the consequences. If I ever see her face again, I'm gonna fucking wreck it myself."

"Veser, calm down."

"I'm not going to calm down!"

Veser shifted and Hanna heard the peas fall onto the ground as he stood up.

"That whore's hated me all my life. She probably would've drowned me in the bathtub if she could've gotten away with it."

"She's still your mom."

An uneasy silence followed. Veser's weight slumped back down onto the couch as he mumbled a weak:

"Whatever."

Quiet settled, until Alex's voice hesitantly asked the question that had probably been plaguing Toni since Hanna had called her over:

"Is all of this why you broke up with Toni?"

"It's got nothing to do with it."

"Bullshit."

Alex's serious tenor seemed to hang heavily above them. He only swore when he was serious.

"How would you know?"

"I can tell when people are lying. Especially you. You do it all the time. I know."

"You're crazy."

"You were worried about her, weren't you?"

Veser shifted the frozen bag of vegetable over his face. Hanna heard him breathing into the plastic as he crumpled it beneath one off his palms. His response followed, so soft that Hanna barely caught the small:

"Yes."

Toni made a sound in her throat, like she was trying to hold back screaming and crying and laughing all at once. Her palm felt clammy against Hanna's skin as their conversation continued.

"You were afraid she'd find out?"

"No."

Veser paused and then said again, more definitely:

"No."

Alex lapsed into quiet to give him the opportunity to explain himself. And he did with such a low volume to his voice that Hanna held his breath in order to catch every word. Beside him, he had a feeling Toni was doing the same.

"I was afraid that _he'd_ find out."

"About Toni?"

"Yeah."

"Why were you afraid of that?"

Alex's question came with that serene quality to it that therapists were so good at, begging Veser to open up and explain himself. It must have been what Veser needed, because he rushed into it with a flood of uncontrolled passion.

"I was afraid that he'd find out about her because, shit, you know we'd been spending time together. I was afraid because it was fucking good, you know, the two of us? Not just the sex, either, I mean the whole damned thing was fucking good. And whenever something is that great, that asshole would ruin it. I couldn't let him, I mean, what if he..."

Veser's voice dropped so low again that Hanna pondered going and sitting right next to the door. But somehow he managed to catch the last part:

"...what if he _hurt_ her? What if I couldn't _protect_ her from him and he _hurt_ her? I couldn't let him, I just couldn't let him hurt her. I couldn't live with it."

The peas shifted again, away from Veser's face so his last words were not muffled in the slightest, but loud and clear. Defining.

"She deserves so much better than that. You know, than _me_."

Toni was off the bed and at the door before Hanna could pull her back. Said door got itself pushed open so roughly that it resounded loudly against the wall, like an audible wavelength of Toni's emotion. It startled the fuck out of the two men in the living room, even more so when Toni shouted at the top of her voice:

"YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT."

Her voice practically shook the walls, making Hanna grope uselessly at the abused door to steady himself. Beyond her form, Hanna could see Veser's face, looking utterly shocked at Toni's sudden appearance and dramatic entrance. Hanna saw his gaze move from her face and then down to her state of casual sleeping attire, where his slow brain must have been trying to calculate exactly what her pajamas meant in the situation: either she was joining in wild threesome parties with the gay couple or she'd come over to eavesdrop on him. But what exactly he was thinking, Hanna had no idea. He was too busy focusing on Veser's injuries: the swelling left eye, the angry red welts on his neck. There was a cut on his forehead held together with taped butterfly stitches. The laceration still bled, dripping into Veser's eyebrow. His lip had a split right down the middle, which had clotted black. The knuckles on his right hand were raised and red; Hanna noticed when he gripped the—he _had_ called it—bag of frozen peas.

"W-What the—Toni, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?" Veser swore, though his voice held none of the venom it had displayed the day the two of them had last spoken. It was a combination of shocked and scared and _ashamed_. The way his eyes glanced from Toni to Alex and then to Hanna added silently that he felt betrayed by his invasion of privacy.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Toni asked, and her voice shook with anger, but the undercurrent of concern was almost as tangible as her rage.

"It's none of your business," he said, and it held more of his usual gruffness that made him sound less _broken_ than before. However, his insecurity shone through plain as day despite his best attempts to come off as annoyed by the whole scenario.

"None of my _business_?" Toni repeated, and her voice came out _shrilly_. All the dogs in the neighborhood were probably up in arms just hearing it. Out of respect and maybe a bit of fear, Alex retreated from where he had been standing almost between the two of them. It was an unobtrusive exit, which Hanna followed quietly in order to not be caught up in the middle of things.

"Yeah! It's none of your business!" Veser replied. It took him an extra second to add: "It's my life so _fuck off_!"

"_Fuck off_?" Toni growled. "You want _me_ to _fuck off_?"

"You heard me," Veser said, and stood up to face her. They were almost equals in height, so it wasn't like it provided any sort of advantage to him. Instead, they glared at each other in what had to be one of the most awkward and awful staring contests of all time.

{"Do you think we should stop them?" Hanna asked.

"Maybe we should let them...sort things out," Alex said.

"What if they start throwing things?" Hanna inquired, concerned for Alex's furniture.

"I've got a broom in the closet," Alex answered simply.}

"Say it again, I _dare_ you," Toni said.

{"Bad idea..." Hanna mouthed at him, but it was too late.}

"Fuck. Off," Veser replied, clearly enunciating the two syllables.

{"Oh, shit..." Hanna mumbled.

"You said it," Alex agreed quietly.}

"I'm _not_ going to FUCK OFF, Veser Amaker Hatch!" she shouted, and jabbed him in the chest. He flinched back from her finger and couldn't get a word in as she continued to poke him with her nail until he fell backwards over the arm of the sofa. Toni leaned over him and continued: "I was a part of your life, so it for damn sure is _my business_!" Veser's silence indicated his inability to reply and judging from the way his eyes were wide—well as wide as the left could open, anyway, in its injured state—with fear, Hanna knew that he had no idea how to proceed. It allowed Toni to keep on going in her rant, where she threw up her hands and whipped her cerulean hair about like she'd been possessed: "You should have _told_ me what was going on! I could have helped you, you fucking idiot! You could have stayed at my place _any time you wanted to_ and you KNOW it. Christ, Veser, if you would have SAID something, I wouldn't have asked so many _fucking_ questions and bothered you _all the time_ about what was happening..." Her voice began failing, cracking under the strain of too much shouting at too early in the morning. "I could have taken care of you, Veser...I wanted—I _want_ to..."

Her voice broke off and Hanna could tell that she was going to cry in that delicate, Toni-like way. She was always embarrassed about crying and so she was quiet about it, as if ashamed by her human weakness to feel sadness. She sat down on the dining room table's nearest chair. From his position, Hanna could see Veser's confused expression, only intensified by her outburst and then tears. He was frozen, as if not knowing what to do. His too-big green eyes—the left still puffy and red while the right was glassy in the half-light at four a.m.—looked to Hanna and Alex as if pleading for aid, guidance, just some sort of advice on what to _do._

"Hug her, you idiot," Hanna wanted to say, but instead mimed the action by putting his arms around Alex's waist. When his boyfriend's arm moved over his shoulders, Veser must have gotten the picture, because he finally moved and went to her. Hanna's embrace tightened slightly in that moment—Alex responding by rubbing his warm palm gently along his upper arm—when Veser approached her and pulled her against him. At first, Hanna thought she might lash out and hit him, but instead, Toni just shook her head, blue and black hair falling messily from its loose ponytail as she leaned against him. The girl muttered nonsense angrily through her muted sobs, but Veser's fingers twined in her hair, eyes closed as he said:

"I'm sorry."

And Hanna knew everything would be okay.

**pqpq**

"Since we're all awake, who wants coffee and pancakes?"

"Only if you put chocolate chips in them."

"Fuck yes, chocolate chips!"

"Veser, you'd get excited over roadkill if Alex put chocolate on it."

"Fuck yes! Roadkill!"

"You're seriously disgusting."

"You love it though."

"I kind of do."

The war was over and 5 a.m. breakfasts weren't as bad as Hanna might have thought.

**pqpq**

"So let me get this straight," Conrad said, a few days later, when everything had returned to a state of semi-normalcy—which was still quite dysfunctional for ordinary people, but a welcomed relief for them—and Veser was not being as much of a tyrannical douche as before. The relationship between Veser and Toni had been amended to the point where the girl actually had asked him to move in with her until he got back on his feet. They didn't outright say that they were dating again, but according to Toni's confidential whispers earlier than morning, the sex was still as awesome as it had been. In any case, Toni was happy and Veser was as happy as he could be without admitting he was happy about the whole thing, so everything had finally gotten back to where it needed to be. "You guys are okay again?"

"Yeah," Veser said, and jabbed his finger against Conrad's shoulder. "Got a problem with that?"

"No, I was just getting the facts," Conrad replied, slapping Veser's hand away from him. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened to your face? It looks like it's been through the meat grinder." The few days had given Veser's injuries enough time to swell up and then turn a blackish blue that was hard to ignore. The extent of it was so bad that Tibenoch had been forced to give him storeroom duty in the cafe so that he didn't scare the customers away. Or make little kids cry, which he had done upon returning to work the day after the initial incident.

"I was in a bar fight," Veser answered.

"Really?" Conrad asked, voice suspicious as he looked around the lunch table for clarification of this fact. Hanna did his best to not let the truth shine through his poor poker face, as Veser had asked everyone to keep it on the "DL" so that word didn't get out and around about it. His face hadn't only suffered damage, but his pride too, and he admitted that he didn't want it getting around the store that his dad had "kicked the crap out of him" and his mother was a "neglectful bitch". Because the request had been sincere and rather uncharacteristically open of him, they had all agreed.

"Oh yeah," Toni said, and then grinned. "You should see the _other_ guy."

Conrad just looked entirely too confused about the entire thing that it was actually quite hilarious. But with everyone's serious expressions, his face deadpanned as he leaned forward across the lunchroom table and whispered:

"What?"

Followed by:

"No way. _Really_?"

**pqpq**

Everyone was having more sex than Hanna.

Well, technically everyone was having more sex than Hanna and Alex.

The two of them kept trying and failing to do so, mostly due to Hanna's insecurity and fear. It was irrational, he kept telling himself, because he wanted to have sex with Alex. In fact, he thought about it _all the time_, but when it got down to actually _doing it_, Hanna flaked out. He didn't know if it was fear of pain or humiliation or _what_, but whatever it happened to be, it sucked. Because of this, the prior night's attempt had been cut short. At least Hanna hadn't cried—though he wanted to when he saw the underlying shadow of disappointment beneath Alex's patient expression—but it was still pretty awful to have to push Alex away _again_, after he'd been doing everything the way it should be done. Hanna felt like he was punishing Alex and repeatedly assured him that it was not his fault. Alex seemed alright with everything, but the dissatisfaction had to be mounting. Hanna could see the self-deprecation in his eyes, stronger each time they stopped before they even began.

"It's my fault," Hanna said, feeling miserable about the repeated and failed attempts. "It's not yours, okay?"

"It's not yours either," Alex said and smiled a bit in apology, before kissing Hanna's forehead. "I've got to stop trying to force you into it. We'll try again when _you're_ ready."

So, unfortunately, due to the fact that he was a complete pussy—and also now that it was his responsibility to instigate any sort of attempts at sex with Alex, which was the most nerve-wracking thing on the planet, so the probability of actually getting laid had plummeted into the negative digits—_everyone _was having more sex than Hanna. Even _Conrad_.

Yes.

Conrad.

And he was screwing the milkman.

That was what Hanna could not believe, at first, because it seemed too odd to be real and just plain wrong at the same time. But then Hanna thought about Conrad's picky sense of style and obsession with cleanliness and, really, his sweater vests were pretty faggy, so Hanna should have figured it out a long time ago. The whole him-being-gay part, not the screwing-the-milkman bit, which brought Hanna back to the awkward situation he found himself experiencing early one Monday morning near the close of December. He had gone to the café to see Alex before opening and since there had been no one around, they decided to share a quiet moment drinking coffee together. This moment of serenity was shattered when Veser practically exploded from the back room as if he were being chased by Predator. His outbursts weren't really ones to be concerned about, so usually they went unnoticed, but Hanna saw that his face had turned quite pale—almost-healed bruises standing out in sharp contrast to his complexion—and his abnormally large eyes were even larger than normal accounting for some concern on his part.

"Er…what's up, Veser?" Hanna tried, when the teen didn't say anything immediately. As if his expression wasn't alarming enough, the manner in which he did not degenerate into swearing became a suddenly serious issue. "Veser?"

"I…I have to throw up," he announced.

"That's…awesome?" Hanna replied, in an attempt to be supportive.

"Go to the bathroom. I'm not cleaning it up," was Alex's answer.

"Don't you want to know _why_ I suddenly want to hurl my guts into next week?" Veser asked, obviously a bit angered that no one would care to know the cause of his sudden illness.

"Thought you had to puke?" Alex said.

"I do," he replied, and seemed a bit impatient as he pointed back the way he had entered. "But I need to warn you."

"About?" Hanna prompted, but before Veser could say anything, Conrad appeared and he looked like an utter train wreck. His perfectly combed hair had gone wild, sticking up in all directions as if he'd stuck it out the window of a speeding truck. The collar of his shirt was wrinkled and the buttons were slightly off—and was his shirt _inside-out _too?—as if he had gotten dressed in a hurry. Hanna also noticed the finer details, such as the uneven skew to his glasses and the swollen nature of his lips and then, somewhere in the redhead's mind, it finally _clicked_. Conrad had been making out, and_ a_ _lot_ from the looks of things if the marks on his neck and ears were anything to go by.

"I'll kill you," Conrad said to Veser, his calm voice conveying a very painful threat.

"You're killing me!" Veser replied, and then looked towards where Hanna and Alex stood on opposite sides of the café counter. They were innocent bystanders in all of it, but Veser accused them anyway with a finger jabbed in their direction. "All of you! You're killing me! The fag-to-straight ratio is too fucked up in this place to be natural!"

"Um…" was all Hanna could get out, and then he did the math. Alex plus him equaled two, which made ratio equal unless Conrad was—

_Oh_.

"No way," Hanna said, and Conrad went so red that he could make tomatoes envious.

"I-I-_Fffff_—dammit Veser!" Conrad barked, after he had finished stuttering at Hanna.

"If you didn't want anyone to know, you shouldn't have been _fuckingthemilkman_," Veser replied, making a disgusted face.

"You're fucking the milkman?" Hanna asked, incredulously, causing Conrad to immediately launch into a jumbled mess of defensive swearing that didn't even resemble English.

"Dude, don't get all up on our case about it," Veser replied. "If you didn't want to get caught, you shouldn't have been _fucking_ in the storeroom!" Across from Hanna, Alex looked terribly entertained at those words and it made the redhead struggle to keep from laughing too loudly. Unfortunately, Conrad heard and began gesticulating wildly at them, as if that made some sort of difference. Veser, on the other hand, developed an even deeper scowl of disgust. "Oh, _shit on a fucking brick_ you guys didn't do it back there too, did you?"

"No…" Hanna said, biting his lip in an attempt to be serious.

"Of course not," Alex replied, and Hanna had a feeling he let the tone of his voice sound unconvincing just to make Veser freak out. After repeatedly saying he would never _ever_ go back into their "homosexual fucknest" Veser ran away, probably to vomit like he'd promised.

Or something.

"So," Hanna said, because it was just him and Alex and Conrad left, the latter still panting and unable to produce speech.

"Um, yeah," Alex tried, but couldn't say anything.

"Just…shut up…" Conrad said, and attempted to smooth out his hair and clothes, but really, there was no fixing _that_. And just when it looked like he had finally gotten himself under control, a blond rail-thin man appeared from the back hallway. He was skeezy and kind of dirty-looking, with stubble and the darkest circles under his eyes Hanna had ever seen. Even from where he stood on the other side of the counter, the redhead could smell cigarettes and bitter coffee on him. The image of this man was not what Hanna had thought of as someone Conrad would pursue—maybe someone cleaner looking, with a palm pilot and pressed Dockers who used an iPhone and liked art or the opera or some shit like that—so he could not even form a sentence as this man smoothed back his short hair and straightened the fur collar of his winter coat.

Conrad looked like he wanted to kill himself.

"Where's tha'fuckin' kid?" asked Conrad's lay. "I outta brain'im on the fuckin' sidewalk."

Hanna was struck speechless, not only by the threat of violence, but also by the semi-attractive accent in which the words were spoken.

"He ran off," Alex answered, when no one else seemed to want to volunteer the information.

"Fer fuck's sake, tha'pussy…" he grumbled to himself, before saying pointedly to Alex: "If'e comes back, y'need t'grab'im n'beat'im fer me, y'hear?"

"Sure thing," Alex replied.

"No y'won't. Too fuckin' nice y're," he said, and then looked back at Conrad. "An' wot's got y'down, peaches?"

"Did you completely _miss_ what happened back there?" Conrad replied and then jabbed a finger at the other man's chest. "And _Christ,_ don't call me _peaches_."

"T'be honest, I wazzabit _busy_ a'th'time," was the answer. Conrad flushed as red as Hanna's uniformed shirt, especially when the blond Aussie's gaze fell to his pants, where the zipper was quite obviously not done up completely. "Peaches."

Conrad flailed and hurried into the backroom to hide from Hanna and Alex's focused attention. The blond man followed at nothing short of a swagger, smirking all the while, leaving Alex and Hanna alone in the café.

"Wow, I just. I mean, I don't even…" Hanna struggled and then finally asked: "Who's that guy?"

"I don't know his first name, but his last name is Worth," Alex answered.

"And he's the milkman?" Hanna asked.

"Well, he brings the milk and stuff for the bakery," Alex replied. "So I guess he could be considered the milkman."

"And Conrad's having sex with him?" Hanna asked.

"Apparently," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Huh," was all Hanna could say about that.

After all, going into a whiny ballad about how everyone else was having more sex than the two of them would not have been appropriate.

**pqpq**

"It's not what you think."

"What are we supposed to think, Conrad?"

"I'm not having sex with Worth."

"And pigs can fly."

"Shut up, Hanna."

"So, the sex is pretty good, huh?"

Judging from the hue of Conrad's skin and his fumbled stuttering, the sex was really good.

**pqpq**

For the first time in a long while, Hanna was faced with holiday stress.

Christmas kept getting closer and closer by the hour, it seemed, and because of this Hanna felt as much excitement as he did dread. He'd never spent the holiday with someone else before, so there was a lot at stake. It could easily go very well or very badly and those outcomes were balanced at an annoying rate of fifty-fifty. He and Alex hadn't really talked about it, so Hanna had no idea what they had ultimately decided on for Christmas: a quiet evening at home drinking eggnog, going out to a party or show or dinner, or maybe doing a combination of all of those things. It was unnerving to Hanna, who didn't know how to approach the subject of the yearly visit to his parents' grave and how that would fit into this new schedule. It would be sure to put a damper on any plans they might make, so when Hanna tried to talk about it with Alex, he backed down and quickly made something else up in order to not discuss it. Luckily, he had an outlet: a lot of people were shopping for the holiday last-minute, so the days were always busy, effectively keeping his mind off the subject at hand. There were too many other things to worry about: like making sure that his managers didn't slate him for triples or ensuring that all of the new releases were out on the proper dates.

But the week before the holiday, when the schedules were posted, Hanna found out that he was not the only one who had gotten off on Christmas Eve. Hanna's manager had approved the time when he requested it, because he had managed to tell her why he needed the day. Although Heather could be a complete cunt, she had looked like she wanted to cry at his explanation before assuring him that he would be free and clear from a shift on Christmas Eve. Alex, on the other hand, had promised Tibenoch a triple in exchange for the holiday off, which Hanna saw on their neatly printed schedules on the cork board outside of payroll. Hanna brought it up that night during a commercial on one show or another. He was lying on his side, cheek resting against Alex's thigh comfortably, almost sleepily when he mentioned that he'd seen his hours, and Alex smiled and said:

"Well, I didn't know what we wanted to do, so I took the day."

"Oh," Hanna said, and bit his lip as he pretended to focus on a cheery holiday commercial for appliances. He tried not to make it sound like he was disappointed, but it must have come across that way.

"If you have other stuff to do, that's okay," he replied to Hanna's monosyllable.

"Toni's having that party…Christmas Eve," Hanna said in response, not wanting to explain his plans at that moment in fear that it would hurt Alex to know that he was being excluded.

"That's at what? Seven or something?" Alex asked. Toni had announced her party the previous day at their lunchtime meeting, informing them that they all had to be there or she'd hate them forever. Conrad balked at the insinuation, but ended up agreeing to go, turning red as ever when the girl insisted he bring his "sexy British boyfriend"—which made Conrad flush as he corrected with mumbled "Australian"—and Veser looked pale, grunting something about gays. His band was going to be there, so at least Veser wouldn't be the "only straight guy in the room" or some such shit.

"I think so," Hanna answered, though he knew for certain it was at seven. He also knew the menu and the guest list, because Toni had told him all about it after lunch. She even confided to him in a whisper that she'd invited Tibenoch because he was looking lonelier than ever as the days began winding down to the holiday. Hanna thought that was awfully nice of her, and made a mental note that he would have to be nice to Ples if he showed up.

"We'll go if you want to," Alex said.

"I don't think we have a choice," Hanna replied, laughing quietly, because Toni had been serious about the whole hating-them-forever-if-they-ditched concept.

"True," Alex answered.

_Bones_ came on and Hanna tried to get really interested in it in order to calm down the twisting in his stomach. He knew that Alex wanted to ask what his plans were for the day, but was too nice to do so. He was too nice all the time, Hanna realized, because he hadn't said anything at all about Hanna's messes or disorganization or the time a few days ago when he'd completely forgotten to take off his shoes at the door. He was too nice, Hanna knew and felt even sicker when he could count on both hands the number of times they'd tried to have sex, but Hanna had pushed him away and, despite his own needs, Alex had told him it was alright. Because of that and so many tinier, seemingly-irrelevant-but-actually-quite-relevant things, Hanna felt like he owed it to Alex to explain himself.

"Er…" Hanna began, heart beating too fast as he tried to begin. He couldn't think of a way to arrange the words so that it sounded acceptable. Instead, he ended up asking: "What do you usually do on Christmas Eve?"

"Nothing much. I haven't celebrated in a long time," Alex admitted and Hanna turned from his side onto his back in order to look up at him while he spoke. "I end up watching TV and eating Chinese food every year. When I was in Japan, it was Japanese food. And Christmas cake. For some reason they eat cake on Christmas, but it was pretty good so I'm not complaining."

"Mn," was Hanna's non-committal noise, waiting for the question that would force him into giving a truthful answer.

"What do you usually do?" he asked.

"The same," Hanna said, staring down so that the bottom half of his frames came into sharp, black focus. He couldn't look into Alex's eyes when he said this, because when someone's eyes were on him, Hanna became overly nervous. Taking a small breath, Hanna continued: "But during the day, I…I, well... I always go to visit my parents' grave." He could feel Alex's gaze on him, followed by a gentle, thoughtful motion of his fingers in Hanna's hair.

"Are you going to drive down then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hanna answered, throat tightening as he said: "They're buried in Independence."

"Do you…want to go alone?" Alex asked, not self-imposing or assertively, but curiously. He wanted to know, the unspoken speaking in volumes that said clearly _I'm here if you need me_. And that in itself warmed Hanna as much as it confused him. After all, Hanna had always gone alone. He had no family and no close friends. Besides, who would want to drive four hours to go stand in a depressing cemetery on one of the most joyous days of the year? Who would want to stand in the snow with Hanna while he tried not to lament too heavily over his dead parents? Hanna didn't know how to respond, because he'd always gone alone, but it didn't mean he always _wanted _to go alone. When he managed to look at Alex directly, his eyes were like warm, liquid caramel as he said: "If you do, that's fine. If you don't, I'll go with you."

Hanna swallowed and his eyes felt hot and itchy.

"Really?" Hanna asked, giving Alex a hopeful smile. His was reassuring as he leaned over to kiss Hanna's lips softly.

"Really."

**pqpq**

Hanna had never really spoken with anyone about his parents before.

The school guidance counselor had tried. A psychiatrist or three had as well. But there was little that Hanna would say about the event that had left him parent less and in one foster care situation after another. Because of that, he had grown up quietly, self-sufficient and {semi}responsible. He tried not to think about his parents because Hanna knew he wouldn't be able to remember much. He was too young when it happened, so his memories were a blur of breakfasts, a few school events, two family trips, and Hanna's first dog. He didn't know if it hurt more having them gone or not remembering very much of their life.

In either case, it was painful.

But the day they drove to Independence on Christmas Eve, Hanna found himself opening up more than he ever had before. One moment they were listening to an alternative rock station and then, Hanna started telling stories. Alex had said that if he didn't want to talk about his parents, he didn't have to, but maybe it was because Hanna finally had someone who would _listen_ that he didn't mind talking about them. And Hanna realized that he recalled more than he thought: the loss of his first tooth, Sunday barbecues with the neighbors, the sled his father had built him when he was six or so, and of course, the holidays.

"My mom used to make ham," Hanna said, and gestured with his hands to indicate how massive the main course had been. Luckily Alex was driving—they took the Subaru because it actually had heat, unlike Hanna's piece of shit—and it gave Hanna the chance to gesticulate while he spoke. "We had so much of it that we ate ham until after New Years."

"That's a pretty big ham," Alex replied and Hanna laughed. He kept talking, about dumb shit, like the tablecloth and the napkin rings and the smell of the house when his mom made pies and his dad would put fresh wood in the hearth.

"After I went to bed, they always sat in front of the tree together and drank champagne," Hanna said, and grinned a bit shyly. "I would spy on them sometimes, because I thought Santa wouldn't come if they forgot to put the fire out."

"A logical fear," Alex said and it was honest, because what child _wouldn't_ think such a thing when they were waiting for Santa to come bring them presents?

"What about your parents? How did you guys celebrate Christmas?" Hanna asked, because he was running out of stories when they were about an hour from the cemetery. His hands were sweating as he entered the familiar shopping districts, where his mom and dad would take him shopping during the holidays, because there were better stores in this area than their hometown. There used to be ice skating inside the mall, where Hanna recalled his mom had taken him, holding him by the hands as they skated around the rink. His dad was waiting with hot chocolate when they were through. It had been a good day...

"Oh, they were always out at a party or something," Alex replied, waking the redhead from his thoughts. Hanna knew he was trying to sound nonchalant, but after hearing about Hanna's happy childhood—no matter how short, still _good _and full—maybe he felt like he'd missed out on something. "I always baked while they were out, because everyone knows that Santa had to have fresh cookies." He smiled and Hanna did too, though the thought of a ten year-old Alex, alone on Christmas Eve was a little too sad to think about.

"Were you always alone then?" Hanna asked.

"They were good parents," Alex said, as if thankful, but still detached from the people who had rejected him from their home. He shrugged. "Maybe it's good that I wasn't so attached to them after all." Hanna frowned, but didn't say anything further. They listened to the radio in mutual silence as the stations fritzed in and out of reception. When they were about fifteen miles from Independence, Hanna saw the old grocery store they would shop at when he was a kid and pointed to it.

"Can you pull over in there?" he asked, and Alex did so.

"I'm going to get some flowers," Hanna said. His hands were shaking, but not from the cold, when Alex pulled up to the front to drop Hanna off. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Alex replied with an easy smile. "I'll be out here."

Hanna nodded and went inside to the brightly lit store, where he followed the signs to the back area. The florist had a bunch of winter plants out for sale, but there were also the standard bouquets and other flowers for purchase as well. Hanna found a nice collection of spring-like flowers. They were purple and yellow, which he knew his mother would have loved. She never liked roses, but loved lilies and orchids. Hanna remembered that she used to try and grow them, but they were temperamental plants and would always die in the winter. Even though he had been young, Hanna knew disappointment when he saw it. With a simple request to the girl behind the counter, she added two white lilies to the bunch and then wrapped them in a soft tissue paper. Hanna didn't even care about the cost. He forked over his credit card without even knowing how much he paid.

Imagining his mother's delight at the sight of the lilies was worth anything.

Out in the parking lot, Alex was waiting for him. Hanna had killed about fifteen minutes in an attempt to stall for time. The drive had been okay, but the prospect of breaking down and crying at the cemetery was something that loomed over his head. Hanna didn't want to cry, because really, Alex had seen him do so way too many times to be healthy. But he couldn't delay any more and found himself directing Alex numbly towards the graveyard, which was covered in a thick blanket of snow. There were already tire tracks beyond the gate and Hanna could pick out the reds and greens among the headstones where family had already come to visit.

There was an elm tree on top of the hill and beneath it, a square slab of marble about five feet long by four feet high. That was where they were buried.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Alex asked. He had turned the car off, so it was just the two of them in silence, lingering in the last remnants of heat. Hanna held the bouquet in his hands, fiddling with the tissue paper because he didn't know what to say. He wanted Alex there as much as he didn't…

"I'll go," Hanna finally said, and opened the door. The cold winter assaulted him, harsh and biting now that they were higher up and more exposed to the wind. He shrugged the flowers into the crook of his arm and zippered up his coat before turning to trek up the hill. Half-way up, he lost all desire to do anything at all. It happened a few times he'd done this, where Hanna had almost gotten to the top, only to turn back around and avoid the place for a few minutes before trying again. This time, though, he had someone to fall back on.

It felt _good_ to know that Alex was there.

"Can you come with me?" Hanna asked after he'd opened the door and gotten back into the car. His pants were soaked almost to the knee from his short walk. It had to be about thirty degrees outside, but ten to fifteen degrees colder with the wind chill. But Alex didn't seem to care about the freezing weather and nodded.

"Sure," he said, and after grabbing his bag from the backseat, joined Hanna at the foot of the hill. "Ready?" He posed his question with his gloved hand held out to Hanna, who latched onto it for dear life. Taking that uphill climb wasn't as difficult as it had been in the past. Maybe it was because Hanna finally, _finally_ had someone to hold onto.

"So…these are my parents," Hanna said, when they reached the top. The hill overlooked the entire cemetery, where headstones laid out in neat patterns and rows in all directions. In the distance, a skeleton forest of trees sat silent and beautiful in the gray afternoon. At their feet, there were already flowers laid out in dazzling groups of reds and whites. Beneath the snow-covered elm, the dark marble had the inscription in gold:

_Jonathan and Carolynn Cross_

_1963-1995 1964-1995_

_Beloved Parents. Beloved Educators. _

_Your Love and Knowledge Has Touched Us All_

"Mom, Dad, this is Alex," Hanna said, even though some would view it as ridiculous, talking to a grave. They weren't there, he knew, but somehow, speaking to them like they _were _was more comforting than talking to a cold piece of stone.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Cross," Alex said, like he was meeting them for the first time at a party. It gave Hanna some peace of mind to have Alex join him in the one-sided conversation with his deceased parents.

"Oh, no, they would have hated that," Hanna said, nudging Alex in the side with a smile. "My dad always went by Nathan and my mom insisted everyone call her Lynn. They hated titles because they said it made them sound old." Alex laughed a bit at that and it made Hanna laugh too. Something so sad as visiting his parents' grave wasn't as oppressively painful as he recalled from the past.

"I'll be sure to remember that," he said.

"You'd better. My parents were pretty serious about that," Hanna replied. Although it felt depressing to have to use the past tense, his smile would not fade. Maybe it was the idea of Alex meeting his parents for the first time. If they had been alive, they would have loved him. His mom might have even gossiped with Hanna in the kitchen while she made the ham, talking about how nice and handsome he was. His dad would have shown Alex every impressive bit of fishing equipment he had and insist that they go for trout before they went home. They were open, kind people who loved everyone. They never judged anyone who was in love, even if everyone else said it was wrong: that they were too young or too old or of two different races or the same gender. They just loved unconditionally and that was what he missed the most. Hanna's smile trembled a bit, but he managed to hold it as he stepped forward and laid his flowers at the base of the grave. They stood out against the white snow; against the accumulation of red roses and white carnations from others who had made the same journey.

"Your parents were teachers, then?" Alex asked, when Hanna returned to his side.

"Yeah. My mom taught English at Central High School here in Independence," Hanna replied, leaning against him. "My dad was a professor of history at Willamette University in Salem."

"Wow, that's impressive," Alex said, putting his arm around Hanna as they stood with wet jeans and shoes in the ankle high snow.

"Yeah," Hanna said, and his eyes felt hot so he blinked rapidly to keep from tearing up. "I miss them." Alex rubbed Hanna's arm as it started to lightly snow. "I wish you could have met them. They would have really liked you."

"Well, I'm a pretty likable guy," Alex said and it sent the two of them grinning. Hanna was pleasantly surprised at his own emotional response to the situation. He'd never thought that he could want to laugh and cry and smile all at the same time. "But yeah. I would have liked to meet them, too." Hanna turned his cheek against Alex's coat to hide from the cold and the grave and the thoughts of _what could have been_.

"We can go if you want to," Hanna murmured quietly.

"When you're ready," Alex replied.

"I think I am," Hanna said, because if they stuck around for any longer, he had a feeling they would both freeze to death. Besides, Hanna didn't want to get weepy and emotional again. That scene could no longer be an option.

"Well, before we go, should we have a drink with your parents?" Alex asked and before Hanna could inquire as to what he meant, his boyfriend reached into his bag and produced a bottle of Korbel. "This is supposed to be good."

"Where did you...?" Hanna began, accepting the bottle as Alex reached into his bag and produced four plastic wine glasses.

"When you were getting the flowers," Alex said, and looked a little embarrassed. "I just, you said that your parents had champagne on Christmas Eve so I thought it would be kind of nice. What do you think?"

"I think they'd love it," Hanna replied and his eyes felt hot because dammit if Alex wasn't the most wonderful, thoughtful person in all existence. No one would have driven almost four hours to a small town in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve for Hanna. No one else would stand out in the snow with him on a freezing day to drink champagne with his dead parents. No one else but Alex Harper. It made Hanna feel like the luckiest person in the entire world.

And while toasting to love and longevity and peace and so many other things beneath the elm at the top of the hill, Hanna cried with happiness.

**pqpq**

Emotional chapter is emotional. Sorry for the two part chapter posted one week apart. Life's been crazy emotional lately, hence the emotional plot like things that happened in this chapter. Maybe some more drama in the future, but at least Worth is in the picture, which will make everything a gazillion times better IMO.

BTW: This was completed and proofread during my vomit-inducing migraine. If you see any errors or sentences that don't seem grammatically correct, just let me know. The OOCness however, cannot be fixed. It's an AU, so everyone's a little OOC. Don't nail me to a cross for this guys because it's been so much fun.

**pqpq**

Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be coming out ASAP~!

**Dhampir72**


	10. Mistletoe

**A/N**: Whew, sorry for the long wait, guys. I had a lot of shit going on at once. The worst thing was being sick through midterms and then having a head and chest cold linger for another week or so after those tests. Plus, I've been looking for another job for the past few weeks and finally got one! I'll be working in Waldenbooks for the holiday season! I'm kind of sad, though, because they don't have a coffee shop in the store. If only they had a café, so that I could glance longingly in that direction, hoping barista!Alex would serve me delicious dinosaur-topped coffee… Ah, but such is life. Unfair and whatnot. But you know, the wait was worth it, because there's Hanna/un!Zombie porn in this chapter.

Yeah, go on and get it, kiddos.

**pqpq**

Hanna was the luckiest person on earth.

Or at least, that was how he felt on the drive home from Independence, curled up in the warm front seat of Alex's Subaru. They ate chicken Lo Mein and Egg Foo Young when they stopped at a Chinese restaurant in Salem like it was tradition. Hanna found it to be comfortable and enjoyable, tucked into an Asian-style booth that sported garlands and tacky lights. It was the first time that Hanna felt like life wasn't so bad on Christmas Eve. Even though he had no family, Hanna had someone, who taught him how to properly hold chopsticks ("Well, this is how we hold them in Japan," he amended, and then explained that there actually was a difference between Chinese and Japanese chopsticks, which wasn't as boring of a topic as one might expect, because Alex did imitations of his _sensei_ that sent Hanna into stitches of laughter for a good ten minutes) and who willingly split his portion of Egg Foo Young with him in exchange for Hanna's water chestnuts and a kiss below the wilting mistletoe hanging above the cash register.

Afterwards, the entire trip northward was smooth and not as long as Hanna thought it would be, because the soft sounds of _Stadium Arcadium_ serenading through the speakers seemed to blur the ride into a series of pleasant twists and turns. Beyond the window, Hanna watched as the forest thinned and then receded, turning to stretches of long highway and yellow overhead lights. The Red Hot Chili Peppers turned over onto some mix tape with older hits from bands like Queen and Duran Duran. Hanna idly moved his fingers over the stiff, cold material of his damp jeans. Below the knee, he was still half-wet from standing in the snow for over an hour, but _The Reflex_ was a good song to not care about it for too long.

In fact, there was something about it—and maybe everything—that made Hanna kind of want to make out.

"Alex," Hanna said.

"Hm?" was Alex's response, eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel. He was careful like that; like he was on some sort of mission to ensure that absolutely no harm came to Hanna, which could range anywhere from fiery five car pile up to the potholes that littered the roads in town. It was adorable and nice and due to that, Hanna did not want to distract him by expressing his sudden craving for the both of them in the backseat, all over each other, for several hours…No, that sort of distraction would not be a good idea.

Besides, Toni would be pissed if they didn't show up for her party.

"Never mind," Hanna mumbled, and turned to look out the window.

"What's up?" he asked. When Hanna peeked out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Alex had dared to take his attention from the road for a few seconds to glance at him. Maybe that was what made Hanna answer almost immediately and with open honesty:

"I don't want to go to this party."

"Why not?" Alex asked, though it wasn't accusing at all. Merely curious, with an underlying tone that indicated perhaps he already knew the answer. Hanna wished he did and would share, because it would be better than trying to search inside the road wreck of himself to find that reason.

"I...dunno..." Hanna said, looking down at his knees. "I just don't...I guess..."

"Well, we don't have to go," Alex replied, and when Hanna looked at him, he noticed the expression his boyfriend made at the words. "Um, Toni won't be very happy with us, but..."

"Yeah, I know," Hanna answered, and then pushed back his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. "So we'll go."

"I do have to stop for gas or else we're not going to make it to town," Alex said, and Hanna knew he was smiling when he added: "Stalling for time, but only a little." Hanna laughed quietly, returning his glasses to the bridge of his nose. _The Reflex_ had been replaced with a quiet Aerosmith ballad, which only intensified Hanna's urge to forget the party and everyone else. He just wanted it to be him and Alex. Alone. With no clothes on. Touching. Touching like it was going out of style. He felt something in his stomach twist and then flutter nervously, heart hammering with nerves as he wondered if tonight would be _the night_. Toni would understand if they didn't show up and hell, maybe she would even forgive him if he told her he'd lost his V-Card. "As long as you were doing something productive," she would probably say, or something equally Toni-like and embarrassing. And then she would want all the details. Every last one of them. And it made Hanna wonder how he would talk about it. He and Alex had tried so many times and fallen short of the goal due to Hanna's unwarranted—by his standards, but by Alex's, quite understandable—fears. So, Hanna already knew roughly how it would start: that sweep-him-off-his-feet-and-then-throw-him-head-first-from-a-rocketship-leaving-the-atmosphere kiss which would be followed by the hot-tongue-that-would-effectively-reduce-him-into-a-pile-of-quivering-and-well-pleased-goo and then lead to Hanna's favorite part. It was, as he liked to call it, the: oh-yes-he-did-put-his-mouth-there-and-so-all-brain-function-has-now-completely-ceased technique. But beyond that? What was it like? To have someone _inside_ of you?

Hanna's skin felt warm as imaginary fingers caressed his flesh, a hollow ache forming in the pit of his stomach with a burning, seemingly insatiable want.

"Hanna, are you okay?" Alex asked. They were beneath the bright lights of the Marathon station about twenty minutes from town. _Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ played quietly from the speakers. Hanna realized that first, and then noted that his cheeks were burning. He didn't doubt that he was probably very red in the florescent surroundings.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hanna said and smiled a bit to ease the awkwardness.

"You sure?" he asked. He was worried, Hanna could tell, because that little line was between his brows, clearly articulating his concern. That crease had persisted since the cemetery, where Alex seemed unsure if his gesture had been too forward because of the way Hanna had cried so childishly. But no words could express how happy Hanna felt. How _thankful._ And those emotions made him want Alex more than ever before.

"Yeah," Hanna replied, the warmth rising when Alex touched his cheek with the backs of his fingers. They were cool and soothing against his hot skin. Hanna leaned into them, eyes falling shut as Queen's lyrics were drowned out by the rapid beating of his heart, like a methed-up teenager on drums in his ears.

"You're all red," Alex said, not convinced. His fingers turned, moving with a gentle caress along Hanna's forehead. "You feel kind of feverish."

"Your hands are cold," Hanna answered, forcing his eyes open. "I'm not sick, I promise."

"Do you want some coffee?" Alex asked, and his gaze flickered towards the convenience store to indicate his offer. "Or anything?"

"I'll get something," Hanna said, taking hold of Alex's wrist to move away from his intoxicating touch. It wouldn't serve to just lose all composure in the middle of a public area. Besides, there were kids in the car at the pump in front them, making faces at them and other patrons from the back seat. So Hanna was good and only placed a small kiss against Alex's open palm. He returned that gesture with a smile that just made Hanna want to _jump his bones_ right there. Kids or no kids. Bright lights or no. "What do you want?" Hanna asked, question emerging as a low, breathy inquiry. Maybe it was what all those romance novels had called "husky with lust" or some other such clichéd garbage, but Hanna wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wanted Alex to the point where it was almost painful and that if he didn't express it, all that balled up tension would drive him insane.

"Something hot," Alex replied. The images that came to mind in response to his reply were more than scandalous. They made Hanna rather daring; outright horny and willing to show it by slipping Alex's pointer finger into his mouth. Hanna kept his eyes locked with Alex's, watching them darken as he sucked, using his tongue in the same manner he would while giving head. He kept this up for a few moments, making sure to tease every inch of cool flesh until Alex's breaths came a bit faster than before. When he drew off the digit, Hanna licked his own lips and asked:

"Anything specific?"

"Uh…y-you can pick…" Alex said, his windswept voice giving Hanna a sense of pride as much as it provided him with a healthy dose of arousal.

"Okay," Hanna replied, and got out of the car, making a beeline for the store. He huddled into his jacket as he made this dash, only pushing the hood back when he was safely beneath the neon signs and beyond the double glass doors plastered with ads for tobacco and beer. In the back, he fixed two cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar in the appropriate amounts to each of their beverages. His hands shook slightly with nerves. It made Hanna bite on his bottom lip as he worked. He could still taste Alex's finger on his tongue and it made the redhead want nothing more than to have something else in his mouth…Hanna shifted, pants chafing and uncomfortable.

He could only be thankful that his coat was long enough to hide his very apparent problem.

Instead of focusing on where he wanted the events of the night to ultimately lead—_unf_ because there were too many images of the two of them fucking in every possible position, on every available surface in Alex's apartment, and to make it even better, in every scene, Alex was wearing an apron that was just _ultimately sexy—_Hanna forced himself to focus back on the task at hand. He fitted lids onto their coffees and then put the Styrofoam cups into a cardboard try to carry them. It took all of his might to not spasm right there and drop everything onto the linoleum floor. Holding onto the tray with both hands, Hanna made his way towards the register. But then he stopped. Backtracked. Then moved forward into in the aisle that sold aspirin and personal products.

And condoms.

Flushing, Hanna peeked over the display and past the register. Through the grungy window, Hanna spotted Alex, who was leaning against the back of the station wagon as he gassed it up. Snow was falling; he didn't have a hat on. Someone slammed one of the refrigerator units of beer shut, startling Hanna out of his observation. With Alex's attention elsewhere and no one around to see him, Hanna looked back down again. Everything from his ears to his neck burned as his eyes skimmed over the words _extra large _and _ribbed_ and _lubricated for comfort_. So Hanna was a bit of a prude, he couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help the look of utter confusion as he perused over the merchandise in front of him. Of course, they had condoms at Alex's place, but what if they didn't manage to get that far? Hanna was horny enough to try having sex in the parking lot for God's sake. And if he couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to get home, then they'd have to be prepared.

Right?

A bit hesitantly, Hanna reached for a brightly colored box of Trojans—boasting comfort and reliability—in the correct size. He had to snag it off the shelf before his courage ran out. And once he had it in his hand, it was like everyone in the store suddenly was staring at him in an accusatory sort of way.

Or like he was a pervert.

He couldn't put the condoms back and couldn't steal them, so, it was with downcast eyes and a nervous tapping of his foot that Hanna waited in line to pay. Everyone in front of him had soda or beer and some sort of food item. The lady checking out was also buying cigarettes. The guy behind Hanna was talking with his wife about getting a lotto ticket. Something about how Christmas Eve was lucky. Hanna swallowed and wondered if maybe he should grab something else before it was his turn. After all, who goes into a gas station to buy two cups of coffee and condoms?

Him, apparently. And those fucked up guys with shady mustaches who molested little kids.

"Next," said the bored-looking, long-faced teenager behind the counter. Hanna hurried up to him and set his coffee down on the counter with the condoms. He was just begging for them to be overlooked, praying that the purchase went by without even a word exchanged or glance spared towards the incriminating box. But just as Hanna was wishing this, the clerk asked: "What size are these?"

Hanna thought he might melt into a puddle of quivering embarrassment.

"Uh, they're uh, you know," Hanna struggled, face burning and palms sweaty. He had to tell himself to breathe normally or else he would pass out right there.

"Medium or large?" the clerk said, while Hanna was trying to regulate his breathing in order to calm down. And that's when Hanna realized that he was pointing at the coffee, not the condoms.

Fucking. _Idiot_.

"Medium…" Hanna replied, red and feeling completely chagrined by the situation.

"Anything else?" the teen asked as he punched in numbers on the keypad.

"No that's it…" Hanna said, because all the judgment could not be undone.

"$10.48," was the answer and Hanna forked over his debit card to pay.

"Okay," Hanna said quietly, trying to not fuck up on his PIN number to make everything go smoothly. The people behind him were probably thinking how much they didn't want their son to end up like him: a jittery, homosexual wreck.

"You want these in a bag?" the clerk asked, and waved the condoms at Hanna when he was through paying.

"N-No, I'm fine, t-thanks," Hanna mumbled, putting his wallet away. He took the box of condoms and shoved them into his jacket pocket, grabbed the coffee, and then hurried to the door at the fastest walk-run on the planet. Alex was back in the car, waiting on him under pump six. Hanna opened the door and hopped into the warm vehicle, very aware of Alex's quiet, curious stare as he went through each motion.

"Hey," Hanna finally said, because there was too much sexual tension in the silence of the car.

"Hey," Alex replied, voice low. Husky. Still turned on.

Hanna held out the tray.

"I got coffee," Hanna said.

"Great," Alex answered after clearing his throat, and took the one that Hanna indicated was his.

"Yeah," Hanna said. Despite all the awkwardness in the store, his arousal still remained. The condoms seemed to burn a hole in the pocket of his jacket, itching to be used. The thought of Alex fucking him in the backseat, Hanna's legs over his shoulders as he pounded into him, rocking the car. Moaning. So much moaning. Hanna nearly came just thinking about it.

"Ready to go?" Alex asked. Hanna swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably on the seat.

"Yeah, let's go," Hanna replied, putting on his seat belt as Alex turned the engine over and pulled out of the space.

"Was there a long line?" he asked, turning out of the parking lot towards the off ramp leading to the main highway. "You were in there for a while."

"Yeah, there were a lot of people," Hanna answered, fiddling with the cardboard in his pocket. Finally, he removed the box from his coat and set it on top of the dashboard. The golden color stood out even in the dark. Hanna thought his blush might radiate in a similar manner, because the words EXTRA LARGE were like a beacon piercing through the night. "I also bought those."

Alex glanced.

Then he looked again.

Before they made it to the turn off onto the freeway, Alex pulled the car over onto the shoulder and stared.

"Huh," was all he said. Hanna felt more nerves than ever, stomach twisting around the ache that still remained, pushing at the front of his jeans.

"Yeah," Hanna said. He glanced at the backseat.

It was totally big enough to accommodate his fantasies.

"That's not fair," Alex pointed out, looking at Hanna. Because of the limited light, Hanna could barely see his expression, though he could hear the bit of frustration in his voice.

"Why?" Hanna asked.

"Because," Alex began, but then stopped and sighed. He sounded upset with himself that he even said anything at all, amending with a quiet: "Never mind."

"I'm not flaking out this time," Hanna said. He took off his seat belt to lean across the middle console. "I really want to tonight." Alex didn't say anything, and Hanna knew it was probably because he'd heard it before. Hanna had said those same words multiple times, only to have everything screech to a halt before it actually began. It was teasing and wrong and maybe Alex knew that and didn't want to get his hopes up…

"I really do," Hanna said again, resting his cheek against Alex's shoulder. He smelled like snow and leather and the aftershave that Hanna found sexually compelling. "I'm ready."

"If you are, you are, but if you're not, don't worry about it," he replied, and Hanna felt his hand move gently over his back. He was glad that Alex had been so patient with him, but now Hanna was sure. It was going to happen tonight without a doubt.

"No, you don't get it, I'm ready. For real this time," Hanna said, pulling back a bit to look at him earnestly. He laughed lightly at Hanna's near-pouting expression.

"Got it," Alex answered. When Hanna leaned closer to him again, he could see that Alex was smiling, almost like the whole thing was some kind of joke. Maybe he didn't believe Hanna?

"No, really, I am," Hanna insisted, trying to drive his point home with utter seriousness in his tone. Alex's smile fell from amused to just one of those nice, understanding ones that Hanna loved. His chilled fingertips moved over Hanna's jaw in a soft caress that made him tremble, cock aching with neglect.

"Okay," he finally replied.

"Okay," Hanna said with a determined nod. Leaning forward, Hanna sealed the deal with a meaningful kiss. It was a bit awkward for Hanna—what with the console digging into his side and his knee jammed in the square cup holder—but Alex held his cheeks and kissed him back, so it was worth the slight discomfort. It was definitely worth the secondary kiss that followed, a bit more heated than the first with tongue and the bit of roughness from his stubble and Alex's hands that smoothed down over Hanna's chest. They moved around his waist, sliding under the hem of his shirt and jacket, fingers tracing over Hanna's heated skin in a fluttering motion that made the redhead release a throaty sound of want.

"We should probably…go home…" Alex managed to get out, when Hanna gave him his lips and tongue back momentarily. He sounded hoarse and turned on and it just goaded Hanna to keep going because there was nothing hotter than getting Alex to that point where he pleaded.

"'s too far…" was Hanna's breathy reply, kissing and even biting his way along the column of Alex's exposed throat. He knew he was winning when Alex did not push him away, tilting his head back to allow Hanna further access.

"It's just, ah, twenty minutes…" Alex said, voice breaking slightly when Hanna found that spot on his boyfriend's neck that tasted more delicious than any other part of him. Alex's fingers clenched uselessly against Hanna's back as that erogenous zone found itself teased mercilessly by an enthusiastic redhead. "F-fifteen if I speed?"

"Now," Hanna replied, unbuckling Alex's safety belt roughly before unzipping his leather coat with one quick motion. He adjusted his position so that it was a bit more comfortable and although his knee was still lodged in the cup holder, Hanna didn't give it much thought.

"N-Now?" Alex repeated, hands shifting to grip lightly at Hanna's hips.

"Now," Hanna said again, leaving no room for argument. He pulled impatiently at the buttons on Alex's shirt, the first three yielding to the motion while the fourth adamantly remained in place. Bowing his head, Hanna moved his lips over the newly exposed skin of Alex's chest as he fought with the button, pleased with the increased warmth radiating from Alex's flesh the further south he traveled. And when that fourth button gave way, Hanna continued on that path. The fifth and sixth buttons gave him no problem, though the way Alex's breath hitched as Hanna's fingers toyed meaningfully at the zipper of his jeans certainly made him more aware of his pressing need.

"Hanna…" Alex said, and it sounded more like a quiet moan than anything. Hanna rubbed the heel of his palm over the front of his boyfriend's jeans, eliciting another delectable sound. Fingers curled into Hanna's hair and although everything about the situation should have said _no_, every reaction Hanna received said _yes._ So what if it was kind of wrong to pull Alex's zipper down so slowly, teasingly breathing over the fabric to make him wait a little longer? Just to hear him beg in that soft, desperate whisper?

But just when Hanna was about to reward him, there was a sharp _rap rap rap_ on the window that made the both of them jump in surprise.

That's when Hanna noticed the beam of a flashlight; the figure in black outside of the window. There were red and blue flashing lights in the side mirror. The only coherent thought that ran through Hanna's head was something along the lines of: HOLYSHITFUCKNOWAY.

"Fuck…" Alex breathed, before Hanna could express a similar sentiment. He pulled his shirt closed before rolling down the window, letting in a burst of cold air and blinding light that made Hanna shrink back into the passenger seat. Alex cleared his throat and in a casual manner tried the old: "Evening, officer."

"Good evening," was the stiff reply as the beam moved from Alex's face to Hanna's. He squinted and held his hand up to block out the offending light.

"What seems to, uh, be the problem, officer…" Alex leaned a little bit out the window to read the policeman's badge. "Van Slyk?"

"I'm responding to a call about a suspicious vehicle," he replied. Hanna wondered how sketchy a Subaru could really look, but decided not to ask. "Is there a reason why you've stopped here? This is a dangerous off ramp."

"Sorry about that. I had, er, a phone call to make so, I didn't want to drive, while talking…" Alex replied. He sounded half-convincing, though his open shirt and developing hickey said otherwise.

"Is that so," said Van Slyk, though it didn't sound like he was buying it. Hanna watched as his beam moved from Alex and then to the condoms on the dashboard. He went as red as his hair when the light lingered on the box that screamed their true intentions. Because of that, Hanna could only hope that the cop was merciful and didn't arrest them for public indecency or some such shit. The biggest turn off on the planet would be spending the night in a dirty prison cell with drunks and some big biker guy who was looking for a new bitch.

"Um…yes," Alex said, in an attempt to sound definite.

The light dropped from the box of condoms, across Alex's disheveled lap and then out the window again.

"I suggest going home before you cause an accident," Van Slyk advised in a disgusted sort of way.

"Yes, of course," Alex replied as the officer put the flashlight back on his belt.

"You're free to go," he said, and Hanna let out a relieved breath. No ticket was nice. No prison was even better.

"Thank you," Alex answered, and then added: "Happy holidays."

The officer didn't say anything, just walked through the snow towards his car as Alex rolled the window back up. Hanna watched the man get into the cruiser in the rear view mirror while Alex buttoned his pants and shirt.

"Holy shit," Hanna said, pulling on his seat belt.

"Holy shit," Alex agreed, doing the same with his safety gear. He took off the emergency break and flashers before pulling back onto the road. Officer Van Slyk's patrol lights turned off, but his headlights followed them for a few miles until he turned off on a west-bound exit. Only when his car was out of sight did they speak.

"That was…" Hanna began.

"Terrifying?" Alex supplied.

"I was thinking awesome, actually," Hanna said, grinning now that the situation had passed. He'd been scared shitless when it happened, but afterwards, it was actually kind of amazing that they'd gotten away with their near-public-indecency-display. Actually, it was more than amazing. Hanna's excitement had actually heightened because they'd been caught in the act. Maybe it wasn't the same for Alex, though…

"I thought he was going to club me at any second," Alex answered, shaking his head. "That was one scary cop…"

"It could have been worse," Hanna pointed out, to which Alex agreed. "And his name was Van Slyk for crying out loud." Hanna glanced at the condoms on the dashboard and snorted into his hand as he said with a dirty overtone: "Ha, Van _Slyk_."

And then he laughed.

Alex joined him.

**pqpq**

When they pulled into Alex's apartment complex, everything was dark. The parking lot and building lights were out. Even the Christmas lights that people had taped up in their windows were not blinking like they had been every night for the past few weeks. It was kind of eerie, what with the dark and the quiet. Kind of like no living soul resided within a five mile radius. Alex's Subaru sounded loud as it chugged through the snowy lot.

"Huh, I wonder what's going on…" Alex said, pulling into the space next to Hanna's Chrysler. There were several inches of snow piled on top of it.

"Maybe the power's out?" Hanna said. When he got out of the car, Hanna could see ice hanging on the power lines. It would suck if there was no electricity, because that meant no heat... His attention shifted from the wires as Alex's fingers moved around his. A good distraction, Hanna thought.

"Well, if that's true then we'll have to find some way to entertain ourselves," Alex replied. "And keep warm." He smiled and Hanna did too as they walked over the ice and snow towards his building. The nerves weren't as bad as they had been previously, though Hanna could feel his heart beating at a pace that was much faster than usual. Thankfully, the walk up the stairs to Alex's apartment didn't feel like a death march, but rather a path that would bring him to another stage of existence and experience. Hanna knew it was not only the events of the day and the warm hand in his and the dark that attributed to his sudden calm maturity, but also the past few months of having a substantial relationship. He knew in that moment that it was going to happen, because Hanna truly wanted to share something with Alex. He wanted to give something. He wanted to give all of himself. It was a little scary to think of that sort of abandonment: to put so much faith and trust into another human being. Being alone for so long had conditioned Hanna to self-reliance. Perhaps that was the reason for the standoffish nature he'd displayed previously. He had wanted it, yes, but was afraid of that deep, wide abyss that echoed commitment and security. It was that gap that needed to be filled a mutual respect and understanding before those secure goals could be reached. But Hanna had been reluctant to give himself entirely. Alex had given himself easily and without hesitation, but Hanna couldn't do the same. Not immediately, anyway. When Hanna thought about it, he realized he had been afraid to, because what was given could always be taken away.

But that night, Hanna knew that to achieve what he wanted, he had to take a risk.

And he wanted that fulfilled feeling, no matter what the cost. There was always that chance to be hurt, he knew. There was always the chance that "it wouldn't work out" in the end. But there was also the chance that everything would be fine. There was the possibility that this would be the best night of Hanna's life. Maybe even of Alex's life. Special, memorable. .How many people could say that their first time was with someone they truly loved? Hanna could. And it was going to be like he always wanted it to be.

And he wanted it to happen with Alex and no one else.

"It's really dark, hold on a minute…" Alex said when he opened the door to his apartment. Hanna released his hand to let Alex freely grope around in the blackness by the entryway. While Alex did this, Hanna peered into Alex's flat. It looked mysteriously alluring in shadow. Seductive, almost. Suddenly, a yellow beam of light cut through the darkness when Alex turned on the emergency flashlight he kept tucked behind the door. "That's a little better…" He slipped out of his shoes and put the flashlight in Hanna's hand. "I'm going to find some candles."

"Okay, do you need any help?" Hanna asked, removing his shoes as well. His heart did that beat and skip thing that made it hard to breathe once he was inside. The bedroom was only a few feet away. If he strained his eyes, he could see the outline of the bed due to the weak, aura-like glow offered by the flashlight. Instead of making Hanna's palms sweaty with apprehension, he could only wish that they were beneath the sheets right at that moment.

"Nah, I've got it," he replied, close to Hanna's ear. Hanna shivered and leaned back against Alex when those strong arms moved around his waist. "It's kind of cold in here, though. Do you want to get in bed? I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," Hanna said, because there was nothing else he was really capable of saying when Alex's lips brushed against his ear like that. His previous arousal flared up with an aching heat in response to the stimulus, making him feel hornier than before. And when Alex released him, it had to be through some miracle that Hanna managed to make it to the bedroom without collapsing due to his weak knees. He fell to a heavy sit on the edge of the bed and remained there in still quiet, listening as Alex moved about the apartment for a few moments. When he appeared, it was with a large candle from his bookshelf, already lit. It cast a warm orange glow to Alex's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, setting the candle down on the bedside table.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" Hanna asked. He didn't stutter. His voice didn't even go higher like it usually did when Alex asked him that question. He calmly rode the wave of Want and Ready inside of him, which kept his spastic attitude in check.

Essentially, Hanna was in the fucking Zen.

"You look scared," Alex said, removing a few smaller candles from the crook of his arm before taking a seat on the side of the mattress.

"I'm not," Hanna replied, watching as he lit the wicks using the flame from the large candle. When they were all alight, the room came into a hazy focus. Hanna flicked off the flashlight so that there was just the soft orange hue around them. Then they sat there, unmoving and quiet for the longest time, until Alex laid back and met Hanna's eyes.

He smiled and Hanna's heart swooned, like the first time he'd ever seen Alex smile like that.

"C'mere," he said and Hanna willingly obeyed. He lay down next to Alex on his side, almost like they were going to sleep, but Hanna felt not even a trace of tiredness. All he knew was that he wanted to be touched, so Hanna asked. It was a quiet, earnest request of _touch me _against Alex's lips, topped with a polite _please_. And in the half-light of mismatched candles that Christmas Eve, it started with that kiss that made Hanna want to melt every time. That's all it was for a while: just kissing with the occasional brush of fingers over particularly sensitive erogenous zones. It left Hanna dizzy and overheated and horny to the point where it actually started to become a primal necessity in his body. Needy, he moved his hips against Alex's to express his urgency, but a stilling hand placed itself there to prevent the motion. Hanna stopped, letting Alex continue at his slow pace, which involved removing every article of Hanna's clothing with the most teasing of motions. Once he was bare, Alex's notoriously torturous kisses followed, leaving a road map of fiery trails over Hanna's skin. His cock throbbed, pushing at the front of his jeans.

"Alex…please, just…" Hanna begged in a hoarse whisper, back arching as Alex's fingers fluttered over his rib cage on their way to the waistband of his jeans.

"Just what?" Alex asked, undoing the button, but going no further. Hanna made a frustrated sound, fingers curling into the blanket beneath him as he moved his hips.

"You know what," Hanna replied, half-lidded eyes meeting Alex's small grin.

"Do I?" was his answer, as his thumb and pointer finger took hold of the tab on his zipper. He pulled down at a pace that made molasses look like it was on steroids.

"You're doing this on purpose..." Hanna grumbled.

"Can I help it if it's fun?" Alex asked, stopping his torture for a moment to lean over Hanna with that playful smile. Hanna pouted in good humor.

"Don't be mean," he said. It made Alex laugh lightly, before bowing down to kiss him apologetically.

"Okay, okay. I'll be good, I promise." With that said, Alex expertly got Hanna out of his jeans and back into the swing of things. His head fell back against the bed, eyes slipping shut as Alex rubbed him through the material of his boxers. Hanna panted and made a few sounds of encouragement for Alex to continue, but he did not. Instead, he laid down next to Hanna again and kissed him fully. It was clear to Hanna that Alex wanted the two of them to take their time and he had a feeling that the more kissing and touching they utilized to prolong the experience, the better the end result would be. So despite feeling a bit neglected downstairs, Hanna took that moment as his opportunity to just go with the flow of things.

It was very Zen of him, truly.

"You know..." Hanna said, when they parted for breath. His words were lost for a moment as Alex's callused fingertips weaved patterns over his chest, tracing over the peaks of his nipples. Hanna's body jerked with pleasure when Alex gave the right nub a gentle pinch.

"Hmn?" Alex prompted, taking a second to produce the sound as he paused in kissing his way down Hanna's collarbone. His stubble brushed against Hanna's sensitive chest, the reaction going straight to his groin.

"You have too many clothes on..." Hanna replied when he had full function of the English language again. He indicated this by pulling at the hem of Alex's shirt.

"Take it off for me then," was his answer, so Hanna did. He gently pushed Alex onto his back before settling on top of him, smirking himself now that the roles were reversed. His boyfriend just raised an eyebrow to which Hanna responded with a promising kiss. Unlike in the car, the position was much easier to accommodate their activities. Hanna was able to quickly unbutton his shirt—which he tossed over his shoulder without worrying that the cops were going to show up—without any problems. Even in the limited light, Hanna could see some of his work from earlier and made a mental note to tell Alex about the hickeys in the morning. For now, Hanna decided he could use a few more and slowly began working his way from neck down to Alex's jeans.

"You're a tease, too, you know..." Alex said, when Hanna stopped right around his navel to shed his attention there. He particularly liked the muscle that led to Alex's pelvic bone. That whole general area was just a great place for Hanna to loiter and exploit and although Alex had been practicing patience, his fingers curled into Hanna's hair with a silent entreaty to just go_ down_. When Hanna refused to move, Alex made a frustrated sound and said: "Hypocrite."

"I'm not," Hanna replied, working at Alex's belt.

"Are too," he said and Hanna rolled his eyes.

"Okay, maybe a little," Hanna allowed, unbuttoning his pants. "But you are too."

"Hanna, you could melt butter on me and call me a biscuit right now and I'd agree with you," Alex replied honestly, though his vowel extended slightly when Hanna touched him. The breath that followed was almost like a softly hissed _yessss_ as Hanna pulled his zipper down; the low moan that escaped him sounded like a morose _nooooo_ when Hanna did not touch him immediately.

"Hm, now I want biscuits," Hanna said thoughtfully, shifting his hips over Alex's to keep him from moving.

"Y-You're kidding, right?" Alex asked, looking up at Hanna with a mixture of horniness and desperation.

"Actually, biscuits sound really amazing right now," Hanna said, but then saw the creeping disappointment mounting in Alex's expression and laughed before it could develop fully. Kissing him Hanna said seriously: "I'm just kidding."

"And you say I'm mean..." Alex replied, though he didn't look as offended as before, now that the possibility of Hanna choosing biscuits over sex had been ruled as untruth.

"Sorry," Hanna said, and removed his glasses. He placed them on the nightstand by the candles before leaning over Alex with a coy smile. "I'll make it up to you."

"Yeah?" Alex was smiling too, palms moving from Hanna's knees upwards along his thighs. It woke Hanna back into the reality of his want all too quickly.

"Yeah," Hanna said.

"I'll make you biscuits in the morning if that's the case," Alex said, smiling in his good natured manner.

"Deal," Hanna said. Their comedic banter had been fun; a comfortable break in the apprehension that Hanna might have felt if it had been any other night. But Hanna was calm and ready to get things to where they both wanted them to go. He started with a kiss that Alex held him in for a long time, fingers trailing from thigh to hip and then up his spine. It made Hanna ache. He moved his hips against Alex's, starting a rocking motion that sent the both of them writhing, panting as their clothed erections began grinding against one another. After a few moments of this, Hanna pulled away before they could get ahead of themselves, moving down along Alex's body with purposeful intent.

"Yeah...that's it..." Alex encouraged him, body malleable as Hanna removed his last bit of clothing. After discarding the briefs in the same general direction as Alex's shirt, Hanna found himself faced with a needy erection. Alex was always impressive to Hanna, so it was nothing short of worship that the redhead bestowed upon him. Long, sweeping motions of his tongue along the length, paying special attention to the area just below the head that was sensitive on every man. Then Hanna sucked the head, toying the slit with his tongue. It must have felt pretty good, because Alex's words soon became incoherent sounds that Hanna vaguely recognized—from his old anime days—as Japanese. He'd only spoken this way once before, when Hanna had given him a really great blowjob one night after work, and so Hanna knew that he was enjoying it.

"Since I don't speak Japanese, should I take that as it's good?" Hanna asked after he'd eased off Alex's cock, stroking and squeezing it in his palm. Alex's eyes were closed in pleasure and all he could manage was a nod. Hanna leaned over and lapped at the head before straightening up. With a bit of awkwardness, Hanna fumbled out of his boxers before readjusting his balance. His cock was red and it throbbed delightfully as he pressed it against Alex's erection. They moaned quietly as Hanna stroked both of them, squeezing the hot flesh together with each motion of his hand. Alex laid back and enjoyed this attention for a while, before he sat up to kiss Hanna, holding onto his hips.

"You're good..." Alex said huskily, his hips moving in time with Hanna's strokes. Hanna was so horny that he knew they had to slow down, or else he wasn't going to make it much longer. Regretfully, he stopped his pumping, instead rubbing his thumb in circles over the slick head of Alex's cock. His boyfriend's eyes fell shut with the action, but after a moment, he forced them open again and stilled Hanna's fingers. "It's your turn now."

"Mn..." Hanna groaned when Alex squeezed him, feeling himself beginning to lubricate with all the attention. Alex stopped for a moment, switching their positions so that Hanna was lying back against the bed, completely at the mercy of his boyfriend's hand and tongue. It was nothing short of amazing, but Hanna knew he was reaching his limit. Before Hanna could say anything, Alex began deepthroating him and all of his conscious thoughts disappeared. He was only able to shiver and cry out loudly to the ceiling as pleasure assaulted him, clinging to his last few strands of control to keep from cumming right there. Alex must have sensed it because he backed off and moved to lay beside Hanna again; his cock pressed length-wise along Hanna's ribs as they took a break to kiss for a few minutes.

"Do you want to keep going?" he asked, after he finished sucking hungrily on Hanna's lower lip.

"Yes," Hanna replied, panting as he met Alex's eyes. "All the way."

"All the way."

"The whole nine yards."

"All nine?" Alex repeated humorously.

Hanna laughed at his expression of feigned shock.

"All nine."

"Well, then.."

Their brief intermission had given Hanna some more control over his body, which allowed them to keep going. He didn't even notice that Alex had tapped into the stash in the nightstand's top drawer; never heard the small _pop_ as the bottle of lubricant opened. When Alex went down on him again, Hanna lost himself in the sensation of the gentle vibrations around his cock as Alex hummed softly around him. He barely felt the first slick finger enter him, but after its motion became more repetitive, Hanna found himself moving onto the digit. It felt _good_ actually, which was surprising, because he always thought it was supposed to be uncomfortable—

_Oh._

When Alex added a second finger, Hanna squirmed in an attempt to get away from the painful intrusion. Even with lubrication, two fingers provided a severe discomfort. Alex slowed down the motion of the fingers to make the stretching easier, but Hanna still found it awful. When a few moments passed with no change in feeling, Alex stopped all motion all together and waited for Hanna's decision. Without his glasses, Hanna could not see Alex all that well, but knew that he wore that concerned, patient expression. Perhaps inadequacy was setting in, too, and that thought was worse than anything. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the pain of pushing Alex away _again_, so Hanna grit his teeth and told himself to bear it.

"Keep going," he murmured, screwing his eyes shut as Alex began moving the fingers slowly in and out once more. It took a long time—how long, Hanna wasn't sure, though it could have been hours for all he knew—before the agony gave way to a dull pain that wasn't so bad as it had been before. Alex tried to make him feel better by orally stimulating him while he scissored his fingers to prepare Hanna further. While his fingers were doing so, they brushed against something inside of Hanna that made him arch almost completely off the bed in surprise. It was as if a marching band and parade had exploded inside of him for an instant of pure, absolute pleasure. It extended to every part of his body; each nerve and muscle felt that rush of euphoria and Hanna knew then and there that _that_ was the reason sex was such a big deal. Alex moved his fingers back from it before reaching again. It was like the _on_ button of euphoria inside Hanna's body and he nearly came, but luckily, Alex pulled back just in time. It left Hanna a panting, sweaty wreck of want. The good thing was that the third finger that Alex added afterward didn't even phase him.

"Ready?" Alex asked. His voice was quiet in the blurry darkness around Hanna, almost as if he didn't want to shatter the moment with the sound of his voice. Never before had they gotten this far. There was really no sense in turning back, Hanna thought, so he nodded and said:

"Yes."

"Okay."

Hanna waited, trying to relax his body as Alex got them into a more comfortable position. He slipped a pillow under Hanna's tailbone and applied a fair amount of lubrication to his entrance. It was warm and tingly against the sensitive skin there, distracting him momentarily from the tip of Alex's erection that moved between his trembling thighs.

"Relax," Alex advised him, proceeding very slowly, stroking Hanna's cock in hopes of keeping him focused on pleasure rather than pain. Pleasure reigned for a few seconds, before more of Alex slowly pressed inside. His body reacted violently and clenched in an attempt to prevent the intrusion, sounds of pain spilling past his lips before he could stop them. Alex ceased all movement, leaned over so that they were chest to chest, lip to lip as he whispered: "It's okay, Hanna..."

"I-I know..." he answered, gripping at Alex's shoulders to keep him close.

"Try to relax," Alex said gently and Hanna nodded. He did not release the hold on his boyfriend's shoulders, but gave him the go ahead to try again. The position didn't seem to bother Alex, so he stayed in place, keeping a steadied, comforting palm on Hanna's hip as he continued. Hanna only managed to take a little more before the pain became too unbearable and Alex was forced to stop again. As he panted, Alex stroked his hair soothingly. "You're alright. It's okay..."

"Hurts..." Hanna got out, thighs clenching around Alex's middle as the spasms of pain tore through him. He told himself he wasn't going to cry, but his eyes burned beneath his closed lids like fire. A few tears escaped and rolled down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Alex replied, voice cracking with guilt. It tore Hanna up inside more than the physical anguish in his body. Even more so when Alex brushed his tears away with warm thumbs. "Do you want to...stop?"

"No..." Hanna answered and shook his head. He wasn't backing down again. "No...go."

"You're sure...?" Alex asked and with justified concern. After all, Hanna had cried. And lost most of his arousal in the process.

"Yeah..." Hanna replied, squeezing at Alex's shoulders. "Go."

"Okay, we'll go slow..." Alex murmured softly, reassuringly against his jaw, pressing gentle kisses there. And after a few moments, Hanna relaxed enough to handle a little more. The process repeated itself a couple times before the end result was achieved and Hanna could not believe that somehow, all of Alex fit completely inside of him. There was pain, but at the same time Hanna also felt utterly _amazed_. Truly, positively amazed. They were joined, so close, closer than Hanna ever thought possible. And yeah, it hurt a little when Alex slowly began establishing a rhythm—because he wasn't small by _any_ means—but oh, was it worth it. The dull pain receded from his back after Hanna became used to that full, all encompassing feeling and he found himself pressing down onto Alex for want of _more_. It drove him to move in ways he never thought possible, making sounds he never knew he could produce. His fingernails dug deeply into Alex's back as the pace increased slightly and his body shivered as arousal steadily returned to him with each reaching thrust.

Oh, yes. Hanna knew why people went crazy over sex now.

"Faster..." Hanna heard himself beg, legs clamping around Alex's waist to keep steady as the movement increased with his request. The ache felt heavy and hot in his stomach, coiling with tension as each second passed. Hanna could feel his own precum leaking onto his abdomen as a testament to his aroused state. His muscles were spasming with anticipation, building preparedness for an amazing orgasm. And it was definitely upon him, because when Alex adjusted the angle slightly, he pushed just the _right_ _spot_ that made Hanna scream.

Hopefully the neighbors were out.

"Right there?" Alex asked, hot breath against Hanna's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, right there...oh yeah..." Hanna groaned, back arching of its own volition when Alex hit his prostate again. And then he proceeded to aim there over and over until Hanna felt like he couldn't take it anymore. The heat was too much. Combined with the feeling of fullness and the rapid, hard thrusts against his pleasure spot, Hanna was helpless to hold out any longer. Close to completion, Hanna got out a breathy warning—which consisted mainly of _I'm gonna_ before stopping short—and then his body seized up as Alex slammed against that euphoric button. Hot seed spilled onto Hanna's stomach and chest in long, mind-numbing bursts of pleasure. His muscles quivered and clenched around Alex as Hanna experienced his few seconds of pure nirvana. And then, his body relaxed, fell back against the bed numbly.

Sleepy and sated, Hanna resided in a haze for several moments. He felt Alex move back from him before lying down at his side. He said something that Hanna didn't catch, but couldn't ask him to repeat either. Hanna couldn't even muster up words to ask if Alex had finished. But somehow, he could _feel_ that he had—like Alex's unspoken words and smile somehow created its own presence over his body— and it made him sigh in relief. When Alex kissed him softly, lazily almost in post-coital satisfaction, Hanna felt his eyes grow heavy with exhaustion.

"Alex..." Hanna murmured, slurring a bit against the warm chest he tucked himself against.

"Hmm?"

Hanna's tongue felt thick and his mind buzzed with lingering neuron firings of pleasure, so he was unable to articulate anything further. All he knew was that he felt good and he was happy and in the morning, he would have to celebrate the fact that he was no longer a virgin. Drink champagne or something. But tomorrow was far away and the blanket moved over him like a cocoon of warmth, so Hanna could only think about sleep.

"Merry Christmas, Hanna," was what he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness. A kiss fell against his hair like a sigh, warm body wrapped around his. It was perfect: nestled there beside Alex in his bed on Christmas with the knowledge that everything had turned out right and afterwards, it was as wonderful as he had always hoped. But in truth, Hanna was too far away from these coherent thoughts, only able to experience these sensations as bursts of color and emotion within his dreams. And because of that, he would never be sure if the words he heard there were real or a figment of his imagination:

_I love you, Hanna_.

**pqpq**

So, there was supposed to be more. But I'm a diabetic after this chapter and can't write anymore. Guh. The next chapter should be up soon. There will be an epic confrontation and climax and then, the epilogue. Just you wait and see. The ending's good, I promise.

**Dhampir72**


	11. Biscuits

A/N: Long wait is long. Sorry about that guys. Life got so hectic with Sugoicon and my papers and my Japanese speech, which went terribly, by the way . Then there was the whole this-file-turning-corrupt-and-then-being-transferred-into-half-Chinese thing. Awesome stuff, though I mean it in the most sarcastic way possible. But at least my new job has been going EXCELLENT? And at least there is more Hanna/unZombie goodness ahead! Enjoy and sorry once again for the long ass wait.

**pqpq**

Hanna's entire body hurt.

That was the first coherent thought he had upon waking, Christmas morning, from his position amongst the blankets and sheets of Alex's bed. Hanna came awake quickly to this discomfort: the aching in his bones and the dull throbbing in his back and ass were too severe to ignore. At first, Hanna couldn't figure out why he felt like someone had just run him over with a car, as he could neither remember drinking himself into such a hangover nor could he remember actually being struck down by a moving vehicle. So Hanna thought and tried to remember and then realized _why_ he felt so miserable all too quickly.

He'd had _sex._

For the first time _ever._

With Alex.

Last night.

Oh shit.

His heart started beating a bazillion times too fast during the slow process of putting the images together into a streaming picture in his mind. Oh yes, no doubt about it: Hanna was no longer in the V-Club. No longer the 24 year-old virgin. No longer had the prospect of being the 25 year-old-and-maybe-even-older-than-that virgin. Hanna couldn't stop the smile from forming when that sunk in. He'd finally done it. Hanna Falk Cross had finally gotten the balls to actually _get laid_. His grin softened into gentle smile after a moment of celebrating this victory, as Hanna would always be able to say he gave his virginity to someone he really cared about. It was cliché to say that he waited for the "right one" to come along, though in all actuality, that was what had happened. A little discomfort was worth that fact and Hanna couldn't have been happier. Or at least that was what he thought until he tried to move.

Because it felt like he was being beaten with baseball bats by a gang of angry bikers with personal vendettas against his body.

Hanna went completely rigid, grinding his teeth together to keep from uttering a verbal exclamation of his pain. He couldn't even curl up on his side because of the intensity of his agony. And Hanna couldn't understand the near-crippling pain in the slightest. After all, everyone said that sex felt _good_. Hell, people bragged about the afterglow and how, the next day, they had so much energy and enthusiasm for _everything_. They could do things like they did in those crappy movies, such as skipping to work while singing show tunes and such shit. But Hanna doubted he could even get up to drag himself to the bathroom without collapsing into a pile of wibbling anguish. He felt like he'd been lied to, even cheated, and hoped that maybe it was just the first time that was uncomfortable... After all, if the discomfort was this bad, Hanna would have to reconsider his previous interest in having sex _all the time. _Because it felt like it took a million years to be able to breathe normally. Then another million to turn over.

Only to find that Alex wasn't beside him.

Hanna's heart plummeted and sunk like a ball of lead in his stomach at the realization that he was not only in pain, but had also woken up alone. His visions of the perfect after-the-fact-morning were beginning to dissolve between the pain and the absence of his boyfriend from his side. Hanna didn't want to get upset, so he closed his eyes and took in deep breaths. After all, he wasn't needy. Or a woman. He didn't need Alex there hugging him from behind—like in that adorable manner he usually employed, curled around Hanna's body like a warm, protective shield beneath the comforter—and telling him how great last night had been. Hanna didn't need to get mushy about it. Or cuddle. He didn't need to show how much he cared about Alex or kiss him good morning on the first morning after they'd taken _that step_. No, Hanna really didn't need that. It was fine and he wasn't hurt at all, though even Hanna saw through this crumbling wall of falsehoods. He was lying like a rug, which was probably the nicest way to put it without including the words _pathetic_ and _loser_ in the phrase. And unfortunately, because he knew this, the transparent lies didn't help ease his troubled thoughts. He breathed deeply, in and out, in an attempt to comfort himself. It was only through those breaths that Hanna realized something he had missed before.

Someone was making biscuits and gravy.

It made his heart lift exponentially, because it meant that Alex was still there and hadn't left him alone after all (though Hanna realized how stupid that was, because it was Alex's apartment, so he wouldn't just up and leave like some douche after a one night stand) and on top of that, he was making _breakfast_. The bedroom door sat closed, but Hanna could hear the sound of a spoon against a glass bowl, the sizzling of something in a pan. And also the smell of baking biscuits and sausage immersed in a distinctly thick, spicy gravy. Hanna thought he might start drooling over the pillows at any second at that wondrous scent, stomach growling like a wild animal after a long hibernation. That smell wafted through the apartment, finding its way into the bedroom in order to linger directly over Hanna as an incentive for him to get up out of bed. Pain or no pain, there were biscuits and gravy out there! Shakily, Hanna sat up, located his glasses, pulled on Alex's shirt—his button up from the previous evening had been hanging quite miraculously on one of the nightstand drawer knobs—before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

The bikers with baseball bats came back with a vengeance. They even invited their friends so that it felt like the number of people beating Hanna's body with clubs increased tenfold. It made Hanna lay back down, shaking and wincing. He felt weak and ridiculous at not being able to get out of bed, because really, it shouldn't be too hard. After all, Hanna had forced himself through similar pain, such as last year's nasty flu bug that had left him in a similar state of aching and agony. But this time, Hanna felt _different_. Sure, there were the outside pains, but there was also this ache _inside_ that he'd never felt before. It made Hanna feel fragile, almost like he would be torn to shreds if he moved the wrong way. Cravenly, Hanna pulled the blankets up to his chin, then over his head, as if to hide from that discomfort. But his feeling of inadequacy and weakness only increased when the door opened and Alex came in quietly. He displayed the sort of motions of a person tiptoeing into a room in order not to disturb another. Because of this, his expression turned surprised when he saw that Hanna was no longer sleeping, peeking out at him owlishly over the edge of the comforter.

"You're awake," he said and smiled in greeting. Still gorgeous. Still Alex. Like nothing was different at all. It made some of the uneasiness inside Hanna dissipate. A little part of him he hadn't wanted to acknowledge before breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that Alex was not going to make things awkward. Relief because it meant Alex was not and had not intended to throw him away after such an act. But most of all, the relief was because it meant that Alex really did _care_. And Hanna loved him more than ever before. "Good morning."

"Morning," Hanna replied, face hot, though thankfully hidden beneath the blankets where Alex could not see.

"I was just coming to wake you up," he said, entering the room completely. He had two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. It smelled like cinnamon. Slowly, Hanna sat up, propping his body up on one of the pillows to keep the pain at bay. Once he was upright, Hanna took the hot mug from Alex with a grateful, though somewhat coy smile. Alex sat down next to him, kissed his cheek and added: "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Hanna said, while flushing at the attention. Not to mention the fact that Alex was very bare from the waist up. Hanna could see the small love bites decorating his skin from the previous night, which only made looking at him and his lean muscles all that much harder. He didn't know why—because he had been reassured in more than one way of Alex's feelings—but Hanna was feeling _shy_ of all things. Is that what it was like, after the fact? Hanna wondered if it was natural to experience that emotion after the first time. After all, they had been intimate on the highest of levels. And even though Alex's feelings did not seem to have changed, could Hanna be misreading everything?

Sex was too complicated, in Hanna's opinion.

"Hey, are you alright?" Alex asked and Hanna hoped he didn't look like he was having the most massive internal struggle of his life at that moment. He was always too transparent about those kinds of things and Hanna knew it. Toni hadn't advised him to _never ever_ play cards for _money_ for a reason.

"Yeah, _justalittlesore,_" Hanna said, mumbling the last part against the rim of his coffee cup. He made the mistake of chancing to meet Alex's eyes briefly before he found himself blushing. Returning to his coffee, Hanna added quickly: "I guess the electric came back on?"

"It came back on sometime early this morning," he answered, and before Alex could pursue that previous topic, Hanna sniffed the air—as if he hadn't noticed the scent before—and asked:

"Are you making breakfast?"

"Biscuits and gravy," Alex replied, unable to backtrack like Hanna knew he wanted to. But he made the best of it and even gave Hanna a little grin that was too damned sexy for his own good as he said: "Like I promised." Hanna looked into the depths of his coffee as he recalled their teasing the previous evening, flushing so that his ears felt like they were on fire. He remembered the reference to breakfast among their laughter and quiet joking in between breaths the previous night. It was actually quite the relief to know that sex didn't have to be as serious of an affair as Hanna had first thought. Sure, it was a serious step: opening up to that level of trust to be completely vulnerable to another person, but Hanna knew that it was _right_ if only because they had been able to _have fun_. That realization alone chased the shyness and apprehension away, dispersing sunniness inside his soul that radiated nothing but serenity.

"Thanks," Hanna said, smiling as he leaned his cheek against Alex's warm shoulder.

"For what?" Alex asked. Hanna twined their fingers together and closed his eyes contently. So what if it was girly and gay, he was happy and that meant he could be as sentimental as he wanted.

"Being awesome," Hanna answered simply.

"What can I say? I always do my best," he replied, and though his tone came out humorous, Alex's smile fell slightly. "Though, I am...sorry..."

"What're you sorry for?" Hanna asked, tilting his head to the side in question.

"You know," Alex said, and when Hanna did not say anything in return, he went a nice shade of pink, rubbed the back of his neck and continued with: "I tried to be gentle, but I still..."

"No, hey, don't say that, you were great," Hanna replied, feeling heat climbing into his own cheeks as he spoke. So much for that whole hoping-that-he-wouldn't-have-to-blush-like-a-virgin-all-the-time-after-he-finally-got-laid notion. "I-I mean, if anything, it's my fault for not being, ah, well, never mind..." Hanna knew he was as red as his hair and stopped before he could say anything else embarrassing.

"Well, aside from the, er, after effects..." Alex began, but Hanna cut him off.

"Awesome. Like, absolutely positively-you-have-no-idea awesome," was what Hanna said, and with nothing but seriousness and sincerity. It made Alex beam in the way that just made his face _light up_ with happiness. His long fingers moved into Hanna's hair, curling around the red strands just the way he liked it. It made the dull pain in his back feel light years away as Hanna leaned into his boyfriend's palm, where the warmth radiated safety and love and a myriad of other things that he could only identify as _good_.

"Yeah?" he asked, and his honeyed eyes were searching in Hanna's blue depths.

"Yeah," Hanna answered, and cracked a smile. "When I can walk without crying, we should totally do it again."

Alex immediately went crimson, letting out a string of adorable apologies that made Hanna laugh and hug him tightly around the middle. Unfortunately, before Hanna could say anything to make him feel better, the smell of something burning came from the kitchen. Alex just barely got his coffee on the nightstand before he bolted out of Hanna's arms as if the hounds of Hell had been sent after him. Hanna heard him skid down the hallway, nearly tripping over the rug as he pulled the oven door down with a clang that probably woke the whole complex. And although it might have seemed like the moment had been ruined, it hadn't been, because they both had said what they had needed to say.

And despite the near catastrophe in the kitchen, the biscuits were perfect.

**pqpq**

After breakfast and a helping of wondrous painkillers—Alex looked as guilty as a dog thrown out of the house for dragging mud on the carpet when he found out the reason for Hanna's immobility, and had fetched the bottle of aspirin with the concern tensing his shoulders into knots that the redhead could practically _see—_Hanna encouraged Alex to indulge in the traditional past time of watching _A Christmas Story_ on it's 24-hour yearly loop on TBS. It led to a migration from bedroom to couch, where Hanna snuggled up against Alex for the duration of the morning beneath a heavy blanket. He smelled like cloves and coffee and the slight bitterness of sex that wasn't unpleasant at all.

"I don't think I've ever watched this movie all the way through," Alex admitted, half-way into the film.

"But it's a classic! How can you say you've never seen all of it?" Hanna asked.

"I dunno. I guess I just never sat down to watch it," Alex answered simply.

"You're weird," Hanna said, because really, what better movie was there to watch on television on _Christmas day_ than _A Christmas Story_? Because nothing said the holidays like the threat of losing an eye with a BB gun or wearing a hideously pink bunny suit. It was just plain and simple tradition.

"You're weird," Alex said fondly, when Hanna explained this.

"Why am _I_ weird?" Hanna asked, though he knew he _was_, he just wanted some better justification for the insinuation.

"Because it's half-way into Christmas Day and you haven't even opened your present yet," Alex replied. Hanna turned his head against Alex's shoulder curiously, wondering what he was talking about, only to have his boyfriend pointedly look to the right. And sure enough, directly beneath the coffee table, there was a brightly wrapped present topped with a shiny bow. How he had missed it, Hanna had no idea.

"You got me a present?" Hanna asked and it wasn't in that whole I-was-totally-expecting-it-but-I'm-going-to-pretend-I-wasn't-sort of way, but a truly surprised question. He really hadn't been expecting anything. Call it conditioning after so many years of going _without_ gift-giving or receiving. Alex chuckled a bit at his wide-eyed expression, affectionately ruffling his hair.

"Of _course_ I did," Alex said, before leaning to the side a bit to grab onto the present. He pulled it out from beneath the coffee table, lifting it to set the cerulean parcel down between their coffee mugs. It sounded heavy when he put it down. "Unless you don't want to open it? I mean, it looks nice all wrapped up, doesn't it?" He was teasing, though Hanna could sense the bit of uncertainty in Alex's eyes despite his smile. It was that same dilemma Hanna had faced: where were they in there relationship that determined what sorts of gifts—if any—they should exchange? To give him some peace of mind, Hanna sat up a bit and kissed the curve of Alex's jaw.

"I'll open yours if you'll open mine," Hanna replied.

"You got me a present?" he asked, and Hanna laughed at his adorably surprised expression.

"Of _course_ I did," Hanna said, repeating their previous exchange. Alex smiled up at him, looking still a bit sleepy and tousled and so _happy_ that Hanna couldn't help but smile back. And though it took him a few moments to get untangled from the blanket, get up and slowly make his way from the living room into the bedroom to locate his bag, Hanna returned triumphantly with two poorly wrapped, but well-intended packages in his hands. "Okay," Hanna said, and had to angle his hip a little as he sunk back down onto the couch to avoid undue pain in his backside. Alex sat up to make room for him, moving the blanket over Hanna's shoulders concernedly as the redhead gingerly adjusted his hips and legs to get more comfortable. Once he could sit without wanting to black out from the still lingering pain, Hanna placed the two packages on Alex's lap. The bigger of the two was thin, flat, and rectangular while the smaller had a thicker width and perfectly square shape.

"You got me _two_ presents?" Alex asked, nudging Hanna's shoulder with his own.

"One's kind of not really a present?" Hanna tried, because he thought it could be considered as such. Alex shook his head as if he didn't believe it, picking up the big present on the table, which he placed gently onto Hanna's lap. Heavy, though soft, with the maneuverability of what had to be some sort of large book.

"Mine's not really a present either?" Alex replied. Hanna gave him a _bitch, please_ look as he toyed with the bow. Alex laughed softly at the unspoken comment.

"Since you have two, open one of yours first," Hanna said, feeling more excited to see Alex open his gift than he was to open his own.

"Which one should I open?" Alex asked, indicating between the two badly wrapped items.

"Whichever one you want," Hanna replied, and Alex opted for the smaller one. It took him a few minutes—where Hanna laughed after Alex asked: "Hanna, why'd you put so much tape on this thing? It's not like bears would try to get into it, right?"—but finally Alex managed to get all of the paper off the item. Small, square, made of black leather with a single fold, was a new wallet that Hanna had decided to purchase a week prior to Christmas. Hanna had gotten it at the mall when he went out with Toni on her lunch break, which happened to be the day after Alex's wallet had split in half from too much use and wear. According to him, Alex had carried that same wallet since his first year in college and, not wanting to throw it away, he had duct taped it into a messy, semi-functioning object to hold his money and credit cards. Figuring that Alex could only use it in that condition temporarily, Hanna had searched for a similar wallet in one of the leather stores like Toni had suggested. He chose the one now in Alex's hands because there were two clear slots in the wallet: one to hold a license on one side and another to display a picture on the other. Hanna recalled the crumpled, well-loved appearance of the photo they had taken together when they had first met, which was hidden currently behind Alex's bank card in the ruins of his old wallet. "I figured you needed a new one...

"Yeah, my old one's kind of shoddy, isn't it?" Alex said rhetorically. He put the wrapped present onto the arm of the sofa as he got up and went to the door. From his coat pocket, he collected his old wallet before returning to the couch. Hanna watched as he removed the bit of cash and cards, placing them into their new homes. The last to go was the picture of the two of them, which could finally lay flat behind plastic. And be available to view whenever Alex opened his wallet. He closed it once, then opened it, and repeated the process a few times with a smile that never quite left his expression. Hanna could see that every time the wallet opened, his eyes immediately went to the photograph. "It's perfect," he said and looked at Hanna before kissing him gratefully. "Thank you.

"N-No problem..." Hanna flushed, not thinking that his last minute gift was very good. But apparently Alex liked it and that was all that mattered.

"Okay, now it's your turn," Alex said, and Hanna looked down at the present in his lap. It was wrapped so nicely that Hanna didn't want to rip it apart, so he went slowly, first starting with the ribbon and then sliding his finger beneath the tape on the edges. The paper slid off easily in one piece when Hanna pulled it, revealing a large teal tome that he had seen many times, but never had the courage to buy: _Novel and Short Story Writer's Market Guide 2011. _"Now, I know it's kind of lame—because we work in a bookstore and everything—but I figure that, when you're ready to publish, you'll at least have an idea where to send it..." Hanna thought about the large file on his ancient laptop at home: about the boy detective and his zombie sidekick who solve paranormal mysteries. A perfect young adult series of about six books, which, according to volume on his lap—which he had perused on one break or another during those pre-Alex days—was currently a huge market...Maybe he would be able to get enough courage to actually _send _it somewhere, now that "somewhere" was the real address of an actual publishing agency.

"I, you, this..." Hanna began, and then stopped, only able to convey what he meant with a smiling: "Thank you."

"Does this mean I can read your story? Before you send it?"Alex asked, looking hopeful.

"Nope. Not a chance," Hanna said with a grin.

"Oh, c'mon. That's not fair," Alex replied. "Please?"

"We'll see," Hanna said, because Alex could be irresistible when he wanted to be and it was so damned hard to say _no_ when he looked so adorable. He nudged the other present at his boyfriend to change the topic: "Okay, now it's your turn again.

"Two presents is spoiling me," Alex replied, like an obstinate child.

"Don't complain," Hanna said cheerfully and Alex began opening it. Once again, Hanna's tape job proved to be a bit aggravating, but Alex got it open a little faster than the first. Unwrapped, the gift wasn't that impressive: a standard black frame with a felt back. Nothing fancy, because Hanna had been set back by bills, gas, and Alex's wallet, but the most important thing about the item was not the frame itself, but what was inside of it. It was just a simple photograph of the two of them, standing outside in a light snow, arms around each other, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

"This picture..." Alex said, trailing off as if trying to recall when it had been taken.

"Toni took it a few weeks ago when we went to that show in Portland," Hanna replied.

"The First Street Heat, I think?" Alex said.

"Yeah," Hanna replied. It had been a good show, but there had been a wait to get into the bar, a shabby, run-down place called The Union where bands no one had ever heard of played and gathered their followings. "Anyway, Toni emailed this to me a few weeks ago. Since neither of us really have a picture of the two of us—you know, that's bigger than those ones we have—I thought it'd be nice to have one."

"I love it," Alex said simply. Just in the manner in which he said those words let Hanna know that was nothing but the honest truth. Stupidly, he felt himself going red at the thanks that followed and managed to mumble some sort of reply. "Hanna." He looked up at the sound of his name, amazed that his mouth could still go dry due to the power of Alex's amber eyes. "Thank you." Hanna's entire body heated pleasantly when Alex kissed him, long and proper, against the arm of the sofa.

Well-thanked, indeed.

**pqpq**

The picture of the two of them ended up on the nightstand in the bedroom. Hanna fiddled with its angle as he sat on the edge of the mattress in one of Alex's clean shirts while his boyfriend towel dried his hair. His body felt much better after their long soak in the bathtub—which had been quite enjoyable, despite its lack of sexual activity that Hanna would have most certainly welcomed if he had been in better shape—and Hanna hoped that his recovery would continue to be rapid so that he didn't have to feel like such an invalid. The pain had settled into this persistent ache, like a painful bruise along his lower back and legs. Hanna felt a bit relieved, because it was more tolerable than it had been earlier in the morning.

"You look like a Chia Pet," Alex remarked, once he was done with the towel. When Hanna reached up to touch his hair, he found it in a large poof standing a few inches from his scalp.

"Awesome! Do I look like the Scooby-Doo one? I've always wanted the Scooby-Doo one," Hanna replied, and dropped his hand to fidget with the frame again. "Because, seriously, the best paranormal mystery-solver has to be Scooby-Doo. No one else can even compete with him." Alex was kneeling behind him on the bed, gently brushing the knots out of his hair. "I think that's why they made him a Chia Pet. Because he's so badass."

"Do they even make those anymore?" Alex asked.

"Of course! Chia Pets are never going out of style!" Hanna exclaimed, finally finding the right angle for the frame. "If we ever find a Scooby-Doo one, we should buy it." Once Hanna said it, he wished he could reach out into the air and yank the words back before they could be heard. There he was using "we" instead of "I" so casually again. Just because they were dating didn't mean they had to agree on everything. And it certainly meant that Hanna shouldn't be deciding how Alex should decorate his apartment. Because despite the fact that Hanna practically lived there anyway, it was still Alex's place and Alex's place meant Alex's stuff and rules and everything else. It wasn't for Hanna to decide.

Before Hanna could figure out how to remedy the situation, he found himself nearly blindsided by Alex's thoughtful answer:

"We could put it on the windowsill in the living room. There's lots of light there."

"You'd really...get a Scooby-Doo Chia Pet? And put it in the living room?" Hanna asked and it was simply idiotic of him to be getting all _choked up _about a fucking Chia Pet, but he couldn't help it. Alex's place had this Zen quality about that bragged minimalist in the most handsome sort of way. Every item had its place, its purpose and everything from the books to the colors of the rugs to the shower curtain all spoke of Alex's simple, well-tuned taste. And yet, he was willing to put a stupid Chia Pet on the windowsill in the living room, where everyone could see it. Where everyone would look at it and know that it was something of Hanna's in the apartment. His presence and place in Alex's life and what that _meant_. Hanna looked at their picture and felt stupid for wanting to cry, but he had never felt so _welcome_ before. Anywhere.

"Why not?" Alex replied simply.

"It doesn't seem your style?" Hanna answered with a shrug.

"But you'd like it, right?" Alex asked, pausing in combing Hanna's hair only momentarily.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then that's all that matters."

"Really?"

"Really."

"_Thank you_," Hanna said and bowed his head a bit, using the sleeve of Alex's shirt to nudge up his glasses and rub at his eyes.

"It's just a Chia Pet, Hanna," Alex reminded him, and there was a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I know," Hanna answered, though he knew it was something _much more_ than that. "I know." Alex finished brushing Hanna's hair, moving his fingers through it after he set the comb on the nightstand. Hanna leaned into the touch with what felt like a permanent smile on his lips.

"If I would have known, I would have gotten you a Chia Pet," Alex said, and Hanna laughed. "But I got you something else instead." Hanna turned a bit to look up at Alex, who appeared sheepish and slightly apologetic. "I forgot about it earlier, to tell the truth, since it's not something wrapped..."

"What d'you mean?" Hanna asked.

"Look in the middle drawer and you'll see," Alex replied, pointing at the dresser. Hanna looked at him and then at the piece of furniture before glancing back at his boyfriend again. Realizing that the hint would be all he would get, Hanna leaned over and pulled the drawer open. In the past, Hanna had found nicely folded shirts and jeans inside, so it was a bit strange to discover that the entire drawer was empty. Hanna blinked, clueless, at it for a moment, before realizing there was a small, white envelope inside as well. Even more perplexed than before, Hanna picked up the envelope and opened it. A brass key fell into his open palm. Holding it up, he wondered at the small item and its significance, not quite catching on immediately. When Alex didn't explain, Hanna had to ask.

"So...what's this all about?" Befuddled, Hanna turned around to look at Alex for his response.

"Well the drawer is for you," Alex replied, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were embarrassed by the attention. "For some of your clothes if you wanted. You know, so you don't have to keep living out of a duffel bag while you're here?" Hanna couldn't even say anything in return, feeling disbelief and amazement creeping into his expression with each passing second.

"My own drawer?" Hanna asked, eyes widening to the point that Alex chuckled and smiled in a way that was kind of shy, but definitely nice.

"And half the closet if you want it, too," he offered. And although he seemed unsure of himself—perhaps wondering if Hanna was going to freak out and run away at the first sign of commitment—Hanna could see honest earnestness behind his eyes.

"And the key?" Hanna asked, and his voice felt weak like he was really going to start crying.

"It's to the apartment. You can come over whenever you want to," Alex said.

"Really? Are you sure?" Hanna inquired, wanting to make sure that this offered _gift_ was something Alex truly wanted.

"I wouldn't have done all this if I wasn't sure," he replied, and then added a bit nervously, as if he thought Hanna might take it the wrong way: "But it's not like you have to move in or anything like that. You can keep your place and everything. I just want you to have your own place _here, _too."

And with such an answer, Hanna could only sit there and stare, mouth half-open like a dumbass, in complete shock.

The past twenty-four hours had surpassed twenty-four years on earth in terms of Hanna's level of happiness. He had lost his virginity, had a wonderful breakfast, opened presents for the first time in what had to be millions of years, and after the most relaxing bath with his too-hot-to-be-healthy boyfriend, Hanna was invited to a level of intimacy he never thought he would experience. And even though he wasn't "moving-in, moving-in", the fact that Alex wanted Hanna to call his place _home_ meant so much. Christ, he'd even agreed to a Scooby-Doo Chia Pet. He recalled Toni's words, once upon a time, where she shook her head and told him _Oh, boy, he loves you _and had to wonder if she was right. After all, it seemed like Alex had this planned even before they had sex, which meant he _really_ did like him and wanted to be with Hanna. Sex wasn't the focus at all. It was something _beyond_ that, though if it was love, Hanna was unsure.

"So…what do you think?" Alex asked, and really looked nervous when he inquired this, as if he had crossed a boundary of which he should have remained clearly on the other side. And Hanna smiled as he nodded, blinking a bit to keep the heat from escaping his eyes.

"That sounds awesome."

And it was, without a doubt, the best Christmas gift Hanna had ever received.

**pqpq**

Toni looked as mad as a wet cat the following morning.

"You guys are fucked, just so you know," Veser whispered helpfully to them. He sat perched on the back counter, as if he wanted a good seat for the chewing out which was to follow. Alex was at least somewhat protected from his position behind the café's counter, while Hanna stood out in the wide open. And in that position, he was not sheltered from the wrath that practically radiated off Toni in waves. She had her arms crossed over her chest, blue lips in a frown. She had the tapping foot thing going on too, which just attested to the fact that she was angry.

"Well?" was all she said.

And stupidly, Hanna asked: "Well, what?"

Since the store hadn't opened yet, Toni was free to lay into him for as long as she wanted. Her voice wasn't loud—because Toni didn't have to yell to get her point across—though it did cut Hanna down to size. Veser watched all-too-cheerfully from the ledge, grinning like a pig in shit at the spectacle. He only stopped when Alex shoved one of the cleaning bins into his hip in what looked like a purely accidental fashion, doubling over with a string of pained profanity.

"Toni, I'm sorry," Hanna cut in, when the girl stopped for breath. He even managed to get a bit closer to her without fearing she would start spitting fire. "I—that is—we lost track of time…"

"You guys were doing fag stuff, weren't you?" Veser said loudly. Hanna heard the sound of cutlery and glass as Alex slammed the cleaning bin into Veser's side again to get him to shut up. He did, but with a breathless little _fuck_.

"You had better things to do then come over for my Christmas party? _Really_, Hanna?" Toni asked accusingly. The mad cat look had melted into more of an expression of a cat that had had its fur rubbed the wrong way.

"Toni," Hanna said, and it was with all seriousness that he approached her and whispered the truth in her ear. When he stepped back, her disappointment had turned to disbelief before her face transformed completely into the biggest smile Hanna had ever seen in his life.

"Skank," Toni replied teasingly, and crossed the distance between them to throw her arms around him in a choking embrace. "Aw, I'm so proud of you!"

{"I knew it. Fag stuff," came Veser's voice from behind him, followed by a loud clattering sound and then: "Fuckin' Christ. That _hurts.._."

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," was Alex's advice.}

"T-Toni, really, it's not _thatbigofadeal_," Hanna mumbled, embarrassed at the hug and all the attention.

"No, it _is_ that big of a deal. Oh, we should have a party!" Toni said, finally letting go of him. Her anger had completely disappeared, replacing her eyes with this warm sort of glassy glow.

"We're not having a party," Hanna said flatly.

"Why not? We could have cherry pie to celebrate!" she replied.

"Toni…" he answered warningly.

"I'm just kidding!" Toni replied cheerfully. But then she looked at him seriously and said: "But Hanna, if you need to take it easy today, just let me know."

"Wh-What? Why?" Hanna asked.

"Well, I'm sure you're probably in a lot of pain, am I right?" she inquired concernedly.

"N-No! I'm fine, really," Hanna replied, fighting the urge to flail about in false protest. He managed add a very definite: "I'm okay."

"Really?" Toni asked, eyebrow going up doubtfully.

"Really," Hanna answered, and he blushed redder than ever.

"I see," she said, and turned to add loudly for the others: "Alex! Hanna says your thing is tiny!"

"TONI!"

Alex went red immediately and he dropped the crate of glass mugs he had been moving from the stack by the door. It hit the floor by his feet with a resounding shatter, further heightening his color.

"What? You might as well have said that," Toni replied as Alex ducked down to hide behind the counter and clean up the broken glass. "I mean, c'mon, Hanna. You can't lie to me about something like that! I _know_ his shoe size!" Hanna heard Alex bump his head beneath the counter in embarrassment.

{"Fag stuff," Veser grumbled, and limped off into the back room looking disgusted.}

"_Okay_, Toni…" Hanna said, and just to get her to stop talking about it added: "I'm _sore_. Does that make you happy?"

"No," she said, and then leaned over the counter to talk to Alex in this sweetly poisonous sort of way. "You were a gentleman, weren't you? Because if you weren't, you know I'll kill you, right?" Alex's response was too quiet for Hanna to pick up, but whatever he said was enough for Toni. She grinned and put her arm around Hanna's shoulders. "Daw, did I mention how proud I am?"

"In between embarrassing the hell out of the both of us, yeah, I think you mentioned it…" Hanna grumbled, cheeks still hot.

"What the hell is going on?" Conrad appeared, looking from Hanna and Toni to where Alex still remained crouched behind the counter.

"Hanna lost his—" Toni began, but Hanna put his hand over her mouth.

"My car keys. I lost my car keys," Hanna said, and then for good measure added an unconvincing, "damn." Conrad looked at him doubtfully, then at Alex, who Hanna could hear shifting broken glass beneath the counter.

"You mean you guys haven't been fucking this entire time?" Conrad asked.

"Speaking of fucking," Toni began before Hanna had to suffer through answering that question, "you and your Brit owe me fifty dollars."

"First of all, he's Australian," Conrad clarified, slightly pink. "And why do I owe you money all of a sudden?"

"For the damages to my bathroom," Toni said, and the wet cat look was back. "I mean, you can't expect to rip down my shower curtain _and_ break my towel rack and get away with it." Conrad's color increased as he began to stutter a little in his own defense. "No, Connie. No," Toni continued, like a mother lecturing her child for spilling paint on the carpet. "You guys could have waited to have sex when you went home. You didn't have to wreck my place. It seriously looks like a tornado went through there! If you're into kinky rough shit, that's cool and whatever, but not _in my bathroom_."

Conrad made a small sound of protest, but must have seen her point and so, he pulled out his wallet and rifled through it.

"I only have a twenty…" he mumbled, holding it up to demonstrate the extent of his poverty. Toni snagged it from his fingers and put it in her pocket, adding something about Conrad having to pay her back the rest by the New Year. In the time that Conrad was being humiliated, Alex stood up, still looking flustered, but a little less so than before. _Sorry_ Hanna mouthed at him, glancing pointedly at Toni. Alex shook his head as if to assure Hanna it wasn't his fault that Toni was being Toni. It made Hanna relax knowing that at least Alex understood the situation instead of feeling offended by Toni's allegations.

And that made up for any embarrassing things that Toni could come up with afterward.

"So everyone has to share: what's your favorite position?"

"TONI."

Well, perhaps not.

**pqpq**

A/N: I know that this was supposed to go up yesterday, but I totally did not have internet. So I walked a few blocks in the snow to get to internet in order to post this. Hope you...enjoy?

**pqpq**

Life was good.

Though not much had truly changed, Hanna felt closer to Alex than ever before. They still spent the majority of nights together, ate breakfast and dinner in each other's company, went to the Laundromat and grocery store as usual, and still disagreed on what to watch on TV at night. However, there were two things that were different. One was that Hanna had his own drawer, which meant he did not have to go back and forth to his dismal apartment every other day or so. It saved on gas as much as it saved Hanna having to be reminded of his run-down dwelling with no hot water and the female-rapist that was his landlady. All he had to do now was pay rent once a month and the almost non-existent utility bills, which made Hanna less poor than he had been before. Really, he only spent a few nights a month at his own place and it was becoming rarer and rarer that he did even that. And it was _great_.

And speaking of great, the second thing that was different was that they were having sex.

It was painful the first few times, but became easier the more comfortable Hanna became with his body. His soreness afterwards became less and less frequent, which meant that their sexual activity increased. And it was _damned_ good. Alex definitely knew how to please and with instruction, Hanna began picking up pointers quickly. It was never boring, that was for sure. Hanna was happy and Alex was happy and even though they couldn't find a Scooby-Doo Chia Pet _anywhere_, life happened to be very good.

New Year's Eve passed during this time. Toni and Veser dragged the two of them—plus an unwilling Conrad and his perverted Aussie—to a club up in Portland. Veser's band played that night at a place called _On The Rocks_ where people moshed and danced until midnight, Hanna included. When he got Alex a little more than tipsy, he joined in for a while. They lost Conrad and Worth sometime around ten and Hanna figured they were off to go ruin another bathroom so he didn't worry about it. After a few more drinks, Hanna wasn't really worrying about anything at all, especially when that included what people thought of him and Alex—who seriously had to be the most affectionate inebriated person on the planet—as they shamelessly made out between drinks in one of the corner booths. When the ball dropped at midnight, there was a hubhub of cheering and music to celebrate before going home. They stumbled into Alex's apartment at about three in the morning and since they couldn't find the lights or the couch in their states, they had sex on the floor in the entryway. It was fast and hot and pretty much the most amazing thing _ever_. Hanna came twice and it was with enough of a vocal response to wake the entire complex.

Afterward, they crawled into bed and slept like the dead for the next ten hours or so.

"At least you didn't get a hangover like Confags," Veser told them during lunch, the day they returned to work and were swapping stories about New Year's Eve. Conrad wasn't there to even balk at the nickname as he had called in "sick" that morning. "Pussy can't hold his liquor." They laughed a bit at Conrad's expense, even more so when he showed up the following day looking as if he'd been run over by a train. Hanna wondered if it really had been the alcohol that had done it or too much rough sex, but didn't dare ask.

And so, the first few days of 2011 passed as such, with Hanna too focused on his newfound happiness to realize that his current state might be in jeopardy. And even then, he didn't notice it right away. There were the small things that came first, which he began wondering about after Alex had shown him some pictures in one of the albums on his bookshelf. There were snapshots from college life—depicting a very handsome, longer-haired semi-rugged Alex who sometimes was joined in shots with similarly gorgeous men—as well as his trips abroad. Most of the photos were of Japan and historically relevant sites that Hanna found to be as much interesting as they were serene. But while looking at these shrines and temples, Hanna felt something nagging, gnawing almost, at his state of mind. There were several recurring men in a few of the photos with Alex. All of them were attractive, lean, and intelligent in appearance and the close proximity between them spoke of being more than _just friends_. Even in the group shots, Hanna could see this chemistry and he suddenly found that he didn't want to see the photos anymore. Especially when the man that featured most prominently in the pictures towards the end of the album was a red-haired Japanese hottie with a cute smile and a nicer face than Hanna by a mile. And even when the album had been closed and put back on the shelf, Hanna could still see his handsome face and the way Alex had smiled with him.

It took Hanna a long time to figure out that he was utterly and hopelessly _jealous_.

That jealousy intensified, almost like an illness, when Hanna found out that Wednesday nights, when Alex returned from Kendo practice, he Skyped with that same handsome Japanese man for over an hour. It was a habit—a weekly ritual—Hanna realized, though he had not known before. In the past, he usually spent the night at his own apartment on Wednesdays instead of just sitting alone in Alex's apartment to wait for him to come home after practice. But one night, when Hanna came over and was trying to write a particularly difficult chapter for his novel on the couch, Alex sat at the cramped dining room table and spoke in quietly flowing Japanese to this nameless man. Hanna didn't want to bother them, but listening to the foreign syllables and quiet laughter and not knowing what they were saying at all just made him feel _left out_.

"Who were you talking to?" Hanna asked, that night when they were getting ready for bed. Alex had just gotten out of the shower and his wet hair looked shiny in the bedroom's low light.

"My friend back in Japan," he answered, sliding beneath the blanket. Hanna waited a moment, not wanting to join him just yet.

"What's his name?" Hanna asked.

"Taka," Alex replied. "Takayoshi Noguchi. We taught English together at a high school in Aizu."

"Oh," Hanna said, and sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't lie down immediately. That thing was still gnawing at him. Jealousy felt like a dog slowly munching at his chest cavity and Hanna did not want to bring that to bed with him. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Kendo," Alex answered. "He gives me pointers. And also reminds me that it can't be taught properly in America so I should come back to Japan." Alex meant it jokingly, but Hanna's spine went rigid at the thought of Alex packing up his bags and never coming home. Never coming back to the place that Hanna now thought of as _their_ place.

"Oh," Hanna said again, rather dully.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alex asked, and his palm rubbed Hanna's back. It felt warm and comforting, but Hanna could still feel the dog, worrying away at his resolve so that it was hard to reply:

"I'm fine. Just kind of tired."

"Lay down then," Alex said, giving his shirt a gentle tug. "How's the novel going?" Hanna would have latched onto the distraction, but he didn't trust himself to speak without saying something he would regret, and mumbled back sleepily to avoid the conversation. After Alex turned off the lights and Hanna placed his glasses on the nightstand, he was left with his thoughts and the quiet, even breaths behind him. Jealously wouldn't leave him, no matter how hard Hanna tried to convince himself it was stupid to feel that way. But the beautiful faces of Alex's past lovers haunted him. Takayoshi's voice was a velvet tenor against his psyche and it might have been all foreign consonant-vowel repetition to his ears, but Hanna knew mocking when he heard it.

He had nightmares all night.

**pqpq**

"What's wrong, sunshine?" Toni asked, that Friday afternoon during inventory. Hanna hadn't slept very well the past two nights and probably looked worse for wear. Actually, he knew he looked pretty bad, because that morning, Alex had worried over him a bit at breakfast and asked if he was feeling sick and suggested that maybe he take the day off. And even though Hanna would have loved to lounge around in bed all day, he doubted that lying alone in Alex's apartment all day would be the cure. It would just make things worse. Not to mention the fact that there were always the dreams…

"Uhm, nothing," Hanna replied, marking the new shipments on his clipboard in a listless, unenthusiastic manner.

"Bullshit," Toni said, and yanked the clipboard from his weak hands. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Hanna answered. He was looking at his shoes instead of her because it was easier.

"Hanna," she scolded, grasping his chin. "Remember the whole lying-to-your-friends-thing and how much I hate it?" Toni tried to get him to look at her, but Hanna let his eyes focus at a certain strand of blue hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. It curled into a spiral by her right ear. "Well?"

"Yeah," Hanna said.

"So talk," she replied, leaving no room for argument. And Hanna spilled everything. He told her about the pictures and the Skype nights and everything else that had been bothering him. She listened without interrupting and when he was done, Toni said: "It sounds like you're jealous." Her accuracy made him flinch.

"I know," Hanna said, and he felt warm with embarrassment.

"It's okay to be jealous," Toni said, leading him over to one of the unopened boxes of calendars. "If you _weren't_ jealous, it might mean that you didn't care as much."

"But it's…it's bothering me and I…" Hanna stopped, because he didn't know how to explain how he was feeling. Here he had thought once he'd gotten laid, some kind of relationship maturity would have been bestowed upon him. But there he was, once again without a clue and just as scared that he would fuck something up that could not be undone.

"I know, babe, I know," Toni replied and it was a relief that he did not have to find the words himself. "It's eating you up inside, isn't it?"

"How'd…you know?" Hanna asked, looking up at her with surprise.

"Because that's what it feels like when you're jealous," Toni answered. "It starts out with all these small things that kind of bother you. And then they start accumulating so that it's much bigger than you thought. Then it _really_ bothers you. Depending on the person, it can get out of control pretty fast. Either that or it just kind of eats away at you until you just want to quit entirely."

"What do I do?" Hanna asked, swallowing as he looked down at his hands. "Alex didn't do anything wrong, it's just me…"

"Why don't you just talk to him?" Toni suggested. "You know. Ask him about it. Tell him that it's bothering you. He's a good listener. I'm sure that you guys will figure it out." Hanna nodded mutely, not thinking that he could get up the courage to talk to Alex about such a thing… "Hey, you'll be okay, okay?"

"Okay."

Hanna hoped she was right.

**pqpq**

That night, Alex made one of Hanna's favorite dinners and let him watch Fringe on television without any complaint concerning the supernatural plot. He only asked Hanna once if he was alright and when Hanna said that he was, Alex did not pester him again. And it felt like a normal night, but even though the show usually captivated him, Hanna could find no interest in it. It frightened him to think that something as abstract as envy could take that away. With what else could it interfere?

When they went to bed that night and Alex kissed him, Hanna had his answer.

Usually a kiss could put Hanna in the mood immediately and have him begging before Alex even gave him any tongue. But that night in the middle of January, the kiss didn't do it. Alex must have realized it too, because when they parted, he looked as much confused as he did concerned.

"Hanna? Is something wrong?" he asked, and it was in that patient tone that said he would sit there for hours and listen to Hanna talk if that was what he needed. Somehow that didn't make Hanna feel any better.

"How many people have you, you know…been with?" Hanna inquired. It wasn't the most delicate way to put it, but the only way he _could_ with the dog chewing on the frayed edges of his heart like it had been doing for days.

"Does it really matter?" he replied, and looked as if he were bracing for the answer.

"No. Yes. Not really, but I want to know," Hanna said unintelligently.

"I've had boyfriends, Hanna," was his answer, and it was serious, but still gentle. "I'm not going to lie and say I haven't."

"I know, I just…" Hanna looked off to the side because he didn't know what he wanted exactly. He wanted to know how many people Alex had slept with to get so _good_—at sex and at the whole _understanding_ part of a relationship—and if he and Taka still had a thing or if they didn't and Alex _wanted_ them to have a thing or, well, the list went on and on. Hanna's chest hurt because he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the truth.

"I've had six long-term relationships before you. They each lasted a few years. Maybe one or two that didn't," Alex said, when Hanna didn't answer.

"Oh," was all Hanna could say.

"It's all in the past now. I had good times with them that I'll always cherish, but those relationships are over now. That's why it shouldn't matter how many boyfriends I've had. I have you now and I'm happy," Alex replied and it made sense, but it didn't get rid of the jealousy that clung to Hanna like black, poisonous tar.

"It doesn't matter, I just wanted to know," Hanna said. And he wished in that moment that the conversation would end and they could have sex so that Hanna didn't have to think about jealousy or all those handsome men in Alex's pictures or those God-awful dreams anymore.

"Hanna," Alex said, catching Hanna in his lie. "There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

"What about Taka?" Hanna asked quietly.

"What about Taka?" Alex asked.

"I mean, you guys dated, right? And you still talk all the time..." Hanna replied, looking down. He felt so awful for asking because it sounded as shallow as much as it did accusatory.

"I talk with Taka because we're both _friends_," Alex answered with a distinct emphasis on the word _friends_. "Plus, I want to keep my Japanese up to scratch and he's really helpful with that." Hanna felt like something was lodged in his throat so he could only nod mutely in response. Alex turned up his chin with his finger and gave him a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's the truth, so don't worry. It's not like we still have feelings for each other."

"No?" Hanna asked, and hated how he sounded so _hopeful_.

"No," Alex replied definitely. "We had a mutual break up. That's why we're still friends and we'll always be just friends. And hey, we're both doing pretty well. He has a boyfriend he's crazy about and so do I." Hanna smiled a bit at that. "So don't worry about it."

"Okay," Hanna replied, turning slightly to kiss him. "I'm sorry I got...all weird about it..."

"Don't be," he said and smiled before returning the kiss. It felt more like it had before the worry and the jealousy and Hanna managed to push everything away long enough to enjoy the physical intimacy. Cocooned in Alex's arms during a very slow, but very thorough, round of lovemaking certainly made Hanna feel a bit more secure with his thoughts and feelings. But even still, Hanna could not escape his feelings of inadequacy in his dreams, which tossed him back into a florescent-lit gym he recalled from his old middle school. He stood in a line with all of Alex's former lovers—who were all ridiculously handsome and tall, only furthering Hanna's self-abhorrence for his appearance—and waited anxiously for something to happen. And happen something did: Alex himself walked towards them from the bleachers, smiling in the way that usually made Hanna's heart skip a beat or three. But he wasn't looking at Hanna like that; it was at everyone else. One by one, he selected his ex-boyfriends from the line in order to invite them to a game of basketball. He greeted them all with that heartbreakingly beautiful smile of his as they joined him, eventually forming a ring of abnormally beautiful men with whom Hanna knew he could never compete.

And he stood on the sidelines, waiting for Alex to look at him, call his name, but he never did.

**pqpq**

At the beginning of February, Hanna found himself dreading Valentine's Day.

He had hated the holiday when he was single—happy people smiling too much and draping themselves all over each other could definitely grate on one's nerves—but even with the prospect of celebrating it attached, Hanna felt uneasy. His jealousy had abated into this quiet sort of presence in the back of his mind that he could ignore, but always _feel_ lurking, waiting for the right opportunity to invade and take over his emotions. It usually flared up on Wednesdays when Alex Skyped with Taka and eventually gave way to a throbbing ache of physical and intellectual inadequacy thereafter. Because of that, Valentine's Day felt like a bomb about to explode and it wasn't one of those things that couldn't be deactivated without completely annihilating everything in a fifty-mile radius. So Hanna was wary of the holiday and hoped that it would pass by quietly, unnoticed, between him and Alex. And it kind of seemed that way, until Toni brought it up one day at lunch.

"So you know, Valentine's Day is in a few days," she began. Hanna had a feeling he wasn't the only one glaring daggers at her to _shut up_ before something bad happened.

"So?" Veser replied, munching obnoxiously on pizza flavored Pringles. A Toni-Glare, sharp enough to cut glass, directed his way made Veser eat more like a human being after that.

"So, it's a romantic holiday," Toni answered, raising an eyebrow at him. Hanna didn't know what she was expecting—because with Veser, you were lucky to get the time of day, let alone anything considered _romantic_ in the slightest—but apparently she was expecting at least some sort of acknowledgment of their relationship.

"It's a Hallmark holiday," Veser said, shrugging it off as unimportant.

"It's a holiday where you make your significant other happy or else you don't get laid," Toni said sweetly; Hanna went red and looked at his sandwich so he didn't have to look at Alex. Veser blinked owlishly at her before leaning over the table to snag Conrad's sketchbook—ignoring his whiny I'm-Going-To-Tell-Mom-What-You-Did-And-Then-You'll-Be-Sorry voice as he swore at the boy to return it to him—and ripping out a page. "I don't believe my eyes. Are you going to take _notes_?" Toni asked with a grin.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Veser said, as a sort of threat, shoving Conrad's book at him. "And Confags, get your butt slut to buy you a new sketchbook for Valentine's Day. Yours can't handle any more cocks in it."

Conrad looked like he was trying to impersonate a fire hydrant.

"It's _anatomy_," he replied nastily.

"Fancy word for porn," Veser said and pulled a pen from his pocket. He began writing and reading aloud: "Ideas for Valentine's Day. Number one: rent a porno. Next idea?"

"Don't be a dick, Veser," Toni chided and then added: "That's number two."

"That's impossible," Conrad muttered dubiously, quickly hiding his sketchbook beneath the table before Veser could do any more damage to it.

"So, what are your plans, Connie?" Toni asked.

"No plans. And don't call me that," Conrad replied, embarrassed by the feminine nickname.

"You mean you and your Aussie aren't going to go gallivanting off to destroy public bathrooms or something?" Toni inquired and Conrad's color heightened again at the reminder he had completely fucked up Toni's bathroom while having unbelievably dirty sex at her house.

"_ShutupToni_," Conrad growled, but with no force behind it.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Unless you get caught," Toni said, and looked at Veser, who gave her a knowing grin. "Yeah. The cops are weird about that sort of thing..." Hanna thought about the encounter he and Alex had suffered through and nearly laughed, but managed not to do so out loud. Beside him, he wondered if Alex was thinking the same thing. Then Jealousy made him wonder how many other time he had almost been caught with a lover in a public place. Suddenly there was nothing funny about it.

"It's even worse because you're gay," Veser put in unhelpfully.

"I'm not gay," Conrad replied quickly, too quickly for anyone to believe him.

"You're boinking the milkman. Of _course_ you're gay," Veser said, and chucked his pen at Conrad's face. "Christ, Confags, jump out of the fucking closet already."

"I'm not gay," Conrad insisted again, though even Alex looked at him doubtfully.

"Confags, you're so deep in the closet that you're in fucking Narnia, okay?" Veser said.

"Stop _calling_ me that," Conrad hissed, red and angry.

"What about...Mr. Tumnus? That's your name in Narnia, right?" Veser asked, baiting Conrad with all the joy in the world as he started turning out rhyming names with inappropriate words.

"Wasn't Mr. Tumnus a centaur?" Toni asked unnecessarily, ignoring the two of them.

"No, he was a faun," Hanna answered. "You know. One of those half-goat things."

"A goat who wore gay clothes," Veser summarized, pointing at Conrad like he was the epitome of this description. "Like Confags."

"_IsweartoGod_, Veser, that I'm going to kill you," Conrad growled.

"What are you? On the rag? It's not my problem that you're PMSing, Confags, so don't get all pissy about it," Veser said. Before Conrad could say anything more, he huffed and grabbed his sketchbook before stalking out of the break room, slamming the door behind him viciously.

"Touche," Veser added.

"You did that on purpose," Toni said, and looked at him disapprovingly.

"I can't help it that he's an easy target," Veser replied defensively.

"Anyway," Toni began—instead of admitting that Conrad was an easy and rather _fun_ target—as she turned towards Hanna and Alex. He felt his mouth go dry and begged her with his eyes to _not ask_ but she didn't see it and continued with: "So do you two have any plans for Valentine's Day?"

"Um..." Hanna started, forcing himself to look at Alex, who glanced at him, unsure. "I don't think so."

"We could go out if you wanted to," Alex said and he almost looked hopeful for it. Hanna wanted to kick himself because he sure as hell hadn't been talking much to his own boyfriend for the past few weeks. Every time he thought about a conversation, Hanna was so worried he would just start talking about his own fucked up feelings and that was always a mood killer.

"I really don't care," Hanna replied and though he had meant for his tone to sound open to the suggestion, it came out as if he really _didn't care_ about Alex or what he wanted at all. It hurt him more than all the aching jealousy in Hanna's chest to see Alex's bit of brightness dim at his response, but he did not know how to apologize for such a thing. Toni must have seen something and tried to help him out a little.

"Er, why don't you guys go out to that cafe uptown?" she suggested, seeming a bit nervous, which wasn't like her at all. Hanna wondered how strained things looked between the two of them to make her feel that way. "It won't be super crowded like a restaurant, but it'll still be something fun to do?"

{"Number three: possibility of coffee at the yuppie place uptown before renting a porno..." Veser mumbled to himself as he wrote down ideas on his list.}

"Maybe," Alex said and the guy should have won a fucking medal for being able to smile after all the shit Hanna kept putting him through.

"Yeah," Hanna added, though he didn't sound enthusiastic at all. He didn't have to look at Alex to know what kind of hurt he was causing.

And it was only in the darkness of his own bedroom that night—looking up at the cracks on the ceiling as he listened to the neighbors fighting—that Hanna knew he didn't deserve Alex in the slightest.

**pqpq**

Valentine's Day was like walking on nails and eggshells all at once.

Hanna couldn't keep his mind focused on simple tasks like counting and alphabetizing despite his best efforts. His attention kept drifting to the cafe, where Alex was weathering through Hanna's cruelty like a trooper. How he managed to smile at customers all day, Hanna wasn't sure, but it must have been that same something inside him that kept his expression from crumbling when Hanna had told him the previous night _I'm sleeping at my place tonight_ with no reason as to why. It killed Hanna to know that Alex would weather ten thousand cruel things and then some because he cared too much. Why he cared, Hanna didn't know and that was eating him up inside. What could he possibly see in a dorky, poor redhead with jealousy and self-image issues? The frustration of having no answers and too much envy made Hanna the worst possible thing he could be.

Which was why, Hanna had to do it.

It was like a dog that had gotten to old and sick or hurt and was still walking around, though in a kind of pain that would never cease. It was better to put it down instead of letting it suffer, wasn't it? Hanna told himself that same thing over and over again so that it sounded justified and right and not as fucked up and wrong as he knew it really was. He had cried until he couldn't anymore, but thought _maybe it's for the best_.

_For him_, Hanna told himself, _do it for him_.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Alex asked, that afternoon before Hanna was about to leave for the cafe.

"Yeah," Hanna said, though he could tell his mouth was in a thin line. That morning, he'd been bone white thinking about what he had to do and Hanna was sure he matched that color now.

"Okay, I'll meet you there, then," Alex said and pulled out one of those smiles that nearly _crushed_ Hanna to death with its sincerity and beauty.

"Okay," Hanna replied and left. He shook on the drive over and considered not even showing up; just driving his car until he was somewhere far away. But that wasn't an option and it was with the gait of a condemned man that Hanna entered the cafe. The coffee shop had many patrons, but Hanna pushed through them to a quiet table by the window and sat down. He didn't order anything and probably couldn't drink anything with his stomach in knots. He'd be lucky if he could talk with his heart beating rapidly _It's for the best, it's for the best_ over and over again.

After a half-hour, Alex's shift was over and he appeared at the table sooner than Hanna expected, carrying two cups of cappuccino with an expression that just pulled at his heartstrings. In the foam, there were two hearts, one inside of the other and Hanna felt like his was breaking. It increased Hanna's guilt exponentially to the point where he thought he might just die. And even more so when, after an extended silence, Alex said:

"You're mad at me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Hanna didn't look up from his coffee.

"No, I'm not," Hanna replied.

"Something's wrong," Alex said, and his voice was low, but Hanna could hear the intonation. The_ please tell me what's wrong _sort of pleading that nearly broke his heart.

"Yeah, something's wrong," Hanna agreed, because he couldn't lie. Not when Alex sounded like that.

"Hanna," Alex said, and his hand moved across the table, fingertips touching Hanna's like the lightest of butterflies against his skin. "Please tell me."

"I dunno," Hanna replied, and closed his eyes.

"Please," Alex said again, and his hand moved around Hanna's, holding it with an unspoken _I'm here_.

"I really don't, that is, I don't know how to say it," Hanna answered quietly.

"Try?" Alex prompted him and he deserved every award for _trying_ to be patient and work things out. But Hanna couldn't come up with the words and they sat in silence for a long few moments. Alex's hand around his wasn't helping things like it normally did. "Is it something I did?" he asked, and even tilted his head a bit, trying to catch Hanna's eyes. He kept them stubbornly glued to the window and wouldn't look at him. It had started to snow outside. If Hanna focused properly, he could see their reflections in the glass. "If it is, just tell me, I can take it." He was smiling, Hanna could see and he had to look away from the window before he lost his nerve. The fingers squeezed around his. The hearts in the cappuccino had faded into indecipherable blobs.

"No," Hanna said and shook his head. "I'm sorry, it's not you. It really is me. It's my fault."

"What're you talking about?" Alex asked, and Hanna pulled his hand away. Alex almost tried to pull him back, but stopped before he could.

"I...can't keep doing this, so I..." Hanna swallowed, and no matter how many times he had practiced it to his ceiling, Hanna couldn't do it. Even if it was for the best.

"Do you...want to break up with me?" Alex asked. His voice came out so quiet that Hanna almost didn't hear him. Finally looking up, Hanna saw that Alex was trying—trying his damnedest, bless him—to look like hadn't been punched in the face by the news.

"No," Hanna said, because it was the truth as much as the next part: "B-But it's better if I do."

"Oh," was all Alex could say and Hanna had to look away from his eyes. There was too much he saw there that was already beginning to grieve. "Is there...any way to make you change your mind?"

"No," Hanna said again and it came out like a harsh whisper. He would have rather let the jealousy gnaw at him until there was nothing left than watch as Alex attempted to smile at him like it was okay. The smile wouldn't quite come, though, and Hanna had to leave before he came undone right there.

"I'm sorry," Alex said as Hanna stood up from their table. His knees shook as Alex kept his gaze on the untouched cup of cappuccino as he added: "I hope that...you'll be happy." The unspoken _with someone else_ made Hanna bolt for the door. He didn't care what the people in the cafe thought of him for pushing past and running down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. It was sleeting and he nearly slipped, but somehow managed to keep upright. When Hanna made it to his car, he stopped, not caring that he was soaked to the bone and crying. Parked beside him was Alex's familiar Subaru, green and dirty, even with the weather. In the back seat, Hanna saw a white box with a red bow and he had this crushing feeling because he knew that it was probably for _him_. Alex had walked into the cafe thinking it was a date only to find out he was being dumped. And to top the unfairness of everything in the entire universe, Hanna saw that the gift hadn't been wrapped, instead just there to bring instant joy to the recipient. Somehow, somewhere, Alex had found a Scooby Doo Chia Pet.

And Hanna knew immediately that he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

**pqpq**

This is what happens when my life falls into an whirlpool of angst: bad writing with horrible internal and external conflict. And I mean, come on. Everyone can't be happy all the time! But don't worry, this story does have a happy ending. I'll have another chapter hopefully up by this weekend! It's my goal to finish this fic before the New Year, so let's see if I can manage that.

Thanks for reading~

Dhampir72


	12. Medicine

**A/N**: Thanks for the amazing response, guys, even though the majority of it happened to be people crying in despair over what I had done. But really, it was necessary, and yes, once again, there will be a happy ending. After all, it's only through strife and pain that people can really understand and enjoy happiness~!

**pqpq**

Hanna had never felt so miserable before.

It was after he managed to drive himself home that Valentine's Day without crashing and burning into a fiery wreck that Hanna felt the entirety of his decision, like a heavy weight on his shoulders that he could not bear. It came down on him suddenly, crushing, almost blinding, rendering Hanna unable to move and do anything but lie on the floor, curled up on his side as he tried to breathe and cry and stop crying all at once. He berated his stupidity and selfishness between sobs, pounded his fists against the floor until his knuckles split. When exhaustion settled in, there was no sleep—no escape—from what he had done. There was only the nausea and the stinging pain in his hands and the raw burn in his throat.

And Hanna knew he deserved it.

It was hard to get up after that. To eat, to shower, to take care of himself. He could barely rise the next morning for his shift, knowing he would have to go back to the bookstore, where he would have to see Alex suffering behind that smile that just fucking _hurt_ to look at. Cravenly, Hanna stayed far away from the café all morning and focused on shelving the new releases like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. His fingers moved stiffly, clotted blood on the back of his hands making it difficult to do much of anything. But the more he looked at the black crust over his healing wounds, the more Hanna found himself reminded of his mistake and how much he wished he could go back in time and _not_ do what he had done. However, Hanna knew there was no way that would happen. Time Machines did not exist and nothing he could do now would remedy the situation at all. He couldn't even beg Alex to take him back, because it wouldn't be fair to have hurt that man so badly, only to go crawling back to hurt him again in the future.

Hanna couldn't live with that.

During lunch, Hanna couldn't show his face in break room, so he went and sat in the back seat of his car, staring straight ahead for an entire half-hour without seeing anything at all. By that time, the others would know. When Toni came in for her shift at one, she would find out too. Then everyone would know what had transpired, but not _why_. And Hanna wished he could give them a reason if they asked.

"Why, Hanna? Why'd you do it?" Toni asked, when she cornered him upstairs in World History. She looked as if she wanted to cry as she shook him roughly, as if trying to shake some sense into him. Hanna kept his gaze on the floor, unable to look at her eyes that he knew were filled with concern and disbelief and maybe even anger at that point. It was just too hard to acknowledge his failure so soon after the fact. But Toni wasn't letting him off the hook—no way, no how—and said with a threatening, steely edge: "Hanna, tell me."

"I don't know, Toni," Hanna replied, and goddammit, the tears started coming in quiet, steady succession. Through his blurred vision, Hanna saw the round droplets as they rolled over his hands and onto the carpet.

"I don't know."

**pqpq**

People said that it took time to get over a break up. They said that, after a while, the pain wasn't as intense. You'd be able to smile again. Laugh even. They said that all wounds heal eventually.

Hanna thought they were full of bullshit.

His agonizing pain lingered as a week turned into two. It did not abate or lessen in the slightest, no matter what Hanna did to try and ease his suffering. If anything, it grew heavier; an anvil on his chest, shoulders, under which it became difficult to stand. This oppressiveness kept Hanna from sleeping. Because of that, he spent hours staring at the cracks on his ceiling as exhaustion lingered, but would not let him rest. The people above him continued to fight; throw things. The dog down the hallway howled at night when they got riled up about one thing or another. And as this symphony of disorder and dysfunction played out each night, Hanna's regret only intensified as he replayed the events over and over in his mind. All this pain and misery over uncontrollable jealousy. Stupid jealousy, he realized, all too quickly. When Hanna analyzed it, he saw the stupidity immediately in all those latent fears he had harbored: that Alex would realize their relationship was going nowhere and hop on the next plane back to Japan to be with his ex-boyfriend again. It had seemed rational weeks ago, but in the dark in his own bedroom, with the cold and no warm body beside him, Hanna saw how _ridiculous_ that notion was; that thing that had driven a wedge between him and the one person he cared about the most. The facts were simple, if he had cared to look at the time they had been presented: Alex and Taka were just friends. Taka lived halfway around the world with his new boyfriend. They were happy. There was no _place_ for Alex there. When Hanna's confused bundle of thoughts unraveled to this truth, he thought the cracks in the ceiling looked deeper than ever. The truth of the matter was that Alex couldn't go back to Taka, even if he wanted to, just like he couldn't go back to Ohio, where his parents hated him. He had no siblings, no old friends to lean on, barely any acquaintances within the state. He was completely alone.

And Hanna had left him.

He was so damned guilty that he could barely breathe. Once Hanna managed to draw in air, it was in shaky, racking half-sobs that left him so sick to his stomach that he had to throw up. He spent the night on the bathroom floor with the taste of bile in his throat and the repeated recollection of Alex's face in that coffee shop on Valentine's Day—_Valentine's Day _for Christ's sake; could Hanna get any worse?—and then imagining him alone in that bed they had shared. Hanna wondered, lying still against the peeling linoleum, if Alex had thrown his toothbrush away. Gotten rid of the clothes in Hanna's drawer. Donated away the hoodie he'd left draped over the arm of the couch.

Maybe he'd changed the locks by now, too.

Hanna dragged himself out of the bathroom at around four in the morning and crawled into bed. He pulled the pillows over his head and tried not to cry, because he was so damned _stupid_ that he could barely stand it. He had pushed away the one person who had meant the most to him, over something as ridiculous as unwarranted jealousy. Exhausted, Hanna forced his eyes to close, but he couldn't sleep, just like he hadn't been able to since he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Maybe at one point, he dozed off, but it was an anguished, fitful slumber. Because whenever he closed his eyes he would see the expression Alex made that day, trying his best not to look like he had been crushed to pieces. He didn't fight, because Alex _didn't_. He didn't believe in fighting or arguing. He had just nodded and said through that struggling, wounded smile _I hope that you'll be happy._

Without a doubt, Hanna knew he was the biggest prick on the planet.

And even though Alex didn't have any reason to take him back, the next morning—disheveled and with dark rings under his eyes—Hanna went into work with all intentions of begging that man to forgive him.

"You look like shit," Toni commented. Her tone had a hard edge to it. Ever since she found out, her attitude had turned somewhat cold towards Hanna. Even if she didn't blame him outright for what had happened, it was obvious how Toni felt about the whole thing. Hanna knew he had fucked up big time when his _best friend_ thought he was a jackass.

"I feel like shit," Hanna replied quietly, sitting down on one of the boxes to unpack. Toni stood there with the scanner, but didn't tell him to move. She just watched him and waited, like even if the end of time came, she'd still be there. Waiting for the words that Hanna could finally say aloud: "Toni, I made a big mistake."

"Damn right you did," she answered and Hanna could tell that she'd been waiting to say that for ages.

"Thanks for the support," Hanna replied grimly.

"Sorry, Hanna, but you fucked up big time," Toni said, sitting down on the box next to him. "Alex is probably one of the sweetest guys I've ever met. _Cheating_ probably isn't even in his vocabulary." Hanna looked down at his knees and blinked rapidly to keep from breaking down again. Toni was right, like always. Everyone was right when they defended Alex's side of things. Hanna was the one who had been wrong and he knew that.

"What's Veser said about it?" Hanna asked, throat a little tight. Hanna hadn't had the balls to even be within the vicinity of Alex after everything. Maybe he spared a glance or two from across the store when it wasn't so painful, but Hanna was always too far away to tell if Alex felt as affected by their break up as Hanna.

"Well, he's pissed that you were such an idiot," Toni replied, leaning back on her hands. "He said that Alex hasn't been himself since. Kind of listless, from what he's said. Right after you _crushed his heart to little pieces_—" Hanna flinched, but knew he deserved the jab, "—it seriously looked like Alex hadn't slept or shaved for a week. Now, he's just really quiet, like he's not even there half the time. Veser's been complaining a lot about it recently. I think it just pisses him off because now that Alex isn't on top of everything, Veser actually has to do his job…"

Hanna pushed glasses up and put his face into his hands, feeling as if each word had been a physical blow to his body. In a way, he wished they had been. Maybe it would have been easier to deal with it.

"Hey," Toni said, and her hand rubbed his back gently as some of her old kindness returned to her tone. "You feel like shit. He feels like shit. Why don't you guys just make up and forget this whole being mad at each other thing."

"What do I say? How can I ever say how _sorry_ I am?" Hanna asked, voice soft, confused. He hadn't felt so lost since those few months after his parents had passed away. Feeling that helpless again was not comforting in the slightest.

"Just say what you really feel," Toni advised, back in good-friend mode.

"What if he doesn't forgive me?" Hanna murmured, gripping at his hair in fear that Alex would look at him with _anger_ and push _him_ away this time. And sure, he deserved it, but the prospect of that happening would hurt Hanna more than anything.

"He will," Toni said.

"What if he _doesn't_?" Hanna asked.

"He will," Toni repeated, a little bit stronger than before.

"How do you know?" Hanna replied, mustering up enough strength to turn his head a bit in his hands to look at her.

"I just know," Toni said, and smiled in that nice way that made Hanna believe her.

"_How_?" Hanna asked, because he was so desperate for someone to tell him that everything would be okay and that he hadn't fucked up his life forever.

"Hanna, he loves you," Toni replied simply, factually.

Honestly.

"I love him, too," Hanna admitted, the words coming out with natural sincerity. He spoke so quietly that at first, Hanna thought that Toni hadn't heard him. But the smile on her face told him everything he needed to know. Never had he uttered the words aloud, though he thought them almost constantly. Maybe it was finally time to say them to the person who really mattered.

"Then tell him," Toni said.

"Tell him?" Hanna repeated, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Yeah," she replied and stood up, mussing up his hair. "And after that, don't ever fuck up again. Deal?"

Hanna smiled, let out a small half-laugh that made his shoulders shake. Then he looked up at Toni and said:

"You've got it."

**pqpq**

Later that afternoon, Hanna went in search of the man whose heart he had left in pieces. After so many weeks away from the café, it felt almost like forbidden, though familiar, territory. The smell remained the same. The chairs stood in neat order around matching tables. Mellow music played softly from the speakers. A few people sat around in the area, drinking coffee as they read from books and magazines. When Hanna ventured to the counter, he found himself greeted with the same menu on the wall and the familiar hum of the machines and the usual stack of Styrofoam cups next to the register.

And then, there was Veser's scowling face.

"What do you want?" he asked. Though the words were uncharacteristically civil, his tone sounded like it could bite. At first, Hanna couldn't understand this hostility, but then came to the conclusion that although Veser was a dick, he somehow had feelings, too. If he cared about anyone at all besides himself, it was Toni and Alex. After all, Alex had kept his secret, taken care of him, covered his shifts when he needed, and maybe, on some level, acted as the sort of older brother Veser had never had. And Hanna had hurt Alex, which had inadvertently been a personal attack against Veser, who must have taken it on as his crusade to make sure that Hanna felt even worse than he already did.

"I want to talk with Alex," Hanna said, somehow managing not to stumble on each syllable with his tongue feeling like lead.

"No," Veser said and the single word threw up a brick wall between them.

"I want to apologize," Hanna tried, putting his palms flat on the counter. He sounded desperate as he said: "I _have_ to apologize."

"There's nothing you can say," Veser replied and he turned away to make a show of stacking cups. He was trying to ignore Hanna, but that was impossible for him. Hanna knew he wouldn't be able to stay quiet for long. His shoulders had bunched up in aggravation that he would eventually release, but for once, Hanna did not fear Veser's foul temper.

"Veser," Hanna said, and his voice lowered to emit an earnest: "_Please_."

"No. Fuck you, man," Veser said, turning to face him. Hanna did well not to recoil a step backwards. He had never heard Veser speak so softly, so dangerously before. "Just leave him the fuck alone."

"I just—" Hanna began, but stopped short at the virulent green of Veser's eyes. He had never understood the phrases in books, where authors described someone's gaze as _blazing_ before, but that's what it was without a doubt: a green wildfire of anger that made Hanna clench at the counter in cowardice.

"Get. Lost," he growled.

"No," Hanna replied and though his voice came out small and quiet, it was determined. He wondered if Veser would punch him and on some level, hoped he would. If anyone deserved it, it was Hanna and he admitted freely to that. "I fucked up. I know that. You don't need to stand there and fucking patronize me for it. But I've _got_ to talk with Alex."

Veser stared at him for a long, uncomfortable silence. Hanna could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated whether or not to comply with Hanna's wishes or continue sniping until Hanna went away. When he finally reached his decision, Veser turned and looked Hanna right in the eyes.

"Don't fuck this up," Veser said, and leaned across the counter so that they were unnecessarily close. His threat came quietly so that the customers did not hear its dangerous sincerity: "If you do, I swear to fucking _God_ that I'll rip off your balls and shove them down your throat. Got it?" He didn't wait for Hanna to answer, stalking off towards the back offices, slamming the door behind him. Hanna's hands were shaking, so he shoved them into his pockets in order to hide his shame and weakness. After waiting a few agonizing moments, Hanna had to sit before he fell down from nerves. He had no idea what to say, because it was always easier to hurt than it was to mend.

The door opened. Hanna fixed his gaze on the table so that he didn't lose his nerve completely by looking up too soon. Footfalls came closer to him and then a pair of orange Vans stopped beside the table. Waited. And even when Hanna couldn't look up or say anything at all, he waited. Waited smelling like that cool aftershave Hanna loved and mint and chocolate. _I'm sorry. I love you_ he tried to say, over and over again, but no sound would come out. Hanna tried and tried, but he couldn't say a word and couldn't look up and couldn't stop hating himself for being such a _fuck up_. How long had passed? Hanna didn't know, but it must have been too long, because Alex spoke.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," Alex said quietly. His voice, which Hanna always found pleasing, suddenly felt like it was dragging him over coarse sand. The guilt twisted around his stomach, clenching and tightening like an iron band. A warm palm placed itself gently on Hanna's shoulder. "Sometimes...things might work out for one person and not the other. It...happens..." He sounded tired, the words spaced out like it was difficult for him to speak as well. "I'm...sorry I couldn't...make you happy, Hanna." Hanna felt like was being stabbed repeatedly. There he was trying to apologize and Alex was the one shouldering the blame. Saying _I'm sorry_ like it was his fault when it _wasn't_. It just _wasn't_. And even though Hanna wanted to tell him that—scream it at the top of his lungs that it wasn't his fault—he couldn't make a sound. Couldn't lift his head to tell Alex with his eyes what he truly thought. He could only sit there numbly, feel the gentle squeeze to his shoulder. Then the warmth was gone. The shoes turned and began to walk away. No matter how patient, Alex couldn't wait around for him forever.

"Wait….please…" Hanna whispered, finally able to get _something _out. But Alex didn't hear him. The smell of his aftershave had disappeared. The warmth that had lingered on his shoulder dissipated. Alex was already gone.

Hanna had missed his last chance.

**pqpq**

Hanna felt like he could never show his face again.

After failing to apologize to Alex, Hanna found himself back on Toni's shit list, which meant he got shafted with all the hard work and she didn't seem to give a rat's ass about it. Usually, she would try to help him, but now, Hanna was on his own. In addition to her cold shoulder, Hanna knew that Veser was probably beside himself with anger, so Hanna was pretty sure he could not even venture within a few feet of the café without his violent disapproval. The only person who didn't seem to be getting involved was Conrad. Or so Hanna thought until the next day, when he was rearranging the display in Multimedia and the bespectacled man approached him.

"Hey," he said to get Hanna's attention. He sounded annoyed, so Hanna's list of possible-allies completely faded into nothing right there. Perhaps throwing himself under a bus was a good option at this point.

"Hey," Hanna answered. He didn't look up from the cardboard display and box of DVDs beside him. When nothing was said between them for a few minutes, Conrad continued.

"It's not like I really give a shit or anything, but what the fuck happened?" Conrad asked.

"About what?" Hanna asked tiredly.

"Fuck like you don't know what I'm talking about," Conrad answered meanly.

"Long story…" Hanna sighed and said.

"Skip to the important part," Conrad suggested. Hanna didn't have to look up to know Conrad had his arms crossed.

"Connie, just forget about it," Hanna replied quietly. Methodically, he began stacking the DVD cases into the display.

"How can I forget about it?" was Conrad's snide answer. "You're all wandering around like emotional idiots because of this shit and _I'm_ caught in the middle of it. The least you can fucking _do_ is tell me what the _hell_ happened." He sounded so genuinely pissed off and Hanna was so _tired_ that he couldn't lie even if he wanted to.

"I…did something stupid…" Hanna said, pausing for a moment before continuing with his stocking. "Now, I want to…apologize…but I just…every time I try, I can't. And even if I can, I don't deserve to be forgiven…" It didn't hurt as much as he thought to say all of that, because he knew that Alex deserved someone so much _better_ than him. Maybe it was so easy to say because he had gone numb inside believing that and could barely feel anything anymore in light of that truth.

"So fucking melodramatic," Conrad replied and Hanna shrugged. His head ached, so Hanna stopped for a moment to rub at at the bridge of his nose, wishing the tension and self-loathing away. Beside him, Conrad got down to floor level to continue, almost nicely. "You know if you just say _sorry_ that he'll forgive you, right?"

"Thought you didn't know what this was about…" Hanna replied glumly.

"People talk," Conrad replied.

"Great…" Hanna mumbled, headache pulsing behind his tired eyes.

"I'm not lying," Conrad said.

"I know people talk, Connie, really," Hanna replied, nearly flying forward when Conrad cuffed him lightly upside the head. The pain there blossomed, drumming against his temples.

"Not about that, you twit," he said. "He'll forgive you if you'll just get your head out of your ass long enough to actually _apologize_." Hanna nodded stiffly, his throat hot as he looked at Conrad. Even though Conrad had specific character traits—narcissistic, sarcastic, neurotic all came to mind immediately—he could still surprise people. His meddling actually came across almost endearing, as if he truly cared what happened to the balance of their friendships as bonds were continuously broken and then repaired.

"I'll try," Hanna said, because he at least owed Conrad that much.

"Well you'd better do it fast," Conrad replied, straightening up to a stand. He put his hands in his pockets as he started on his way back to the café. Hanna didn't have to ask, because Conrad's explanation felt like a bucket of ice water and large stones had been dumped over his head.

"Alex put in his two weeks notice yesterday."

**pqpq**

A few days later, Hanna's head was full of hornets.

At first, he thought it might be from the lack of sleep on top of too much stress. He had been feeling weak and shaky over the past few days with recurring headaches that left him nearly crippled, but attributed it to all the shit in his life and thought nothing more about it. That morning, however, it was worse than it had been and because of it, he dressed slowly that morning. He sniffed to himself over his cup of coffee, feeling miserable and cursing the weather and his apartment and everything else about his life that he'd fucked up. The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt, so Hanna did his best to struggle through and not think anymore. However, all throughout the workday, his head remained an agonizing mess of buzzing and pain. It didn't just hurt in his temples, but by the afternoon extended his face and neck, too. So, his eyes were on the verge of bleeding and his neck felt like it would just snap off suddenly and the buzzing was so bad that Hanna lagged in his work more than usual. Luckily, out of sight of Heather and every other manager, he wasn't punished for his sluggish pace.

After lunch—Hanna couldn't stomach anything except water by that point, which he drank in small sips while curled up on a box in the stock room—he was banished to inventory again. Opening all the boxes wasn't difficult, but the leaning forward and then lifting and moving wore him out and made Hanna dizzy. Five or six boxes into that giant mess, Hanna started seeing black spots and had to sit down before he _fell_ down. The ground swayed as he sat there and Hanna had to close his eyes to keep from getting sick as the floor rose and fell, as if on the deck of a ship navigating stormy seas. Hanna did pretty well for a while and even felt considerably better when Toni arrived about a half-hour later. Apparently, he didn't look well, because Toni dropped the stack of child puzzles she had been carrying. They crashed onto the floor. One opened and pieces scattered everywhere. Even though it made no sense, Hanna thought it sounded like glass breaking.

"Shit, Hanna…are you okay?" she asked, and before Hanna knew it, she was next to him. The room tilted dangerously when he opened his eyes to try and focus on her. When it was too nauseating to do so, Hanna closed them again.

"Headache…" Hanna managed to get out, once he felt like he wasn't going to puke on her.

"Must be a bad one…you look _really_ awful," Toni said, her voice quieter than before, as if she did not want to aggravate his headache.

"Thanks…" Hanna replied, swallowing thickly as the floor beneath him lurched. He tasted something bitterly acidic.

"Hanna?" Her voice sounded far away.

"Bucket," he ground out. It took only a second for something square and plastic to be shoved into his hands and then another for Hanna to start retching like an overenthusiastic bulimic. Truth be told, there wasn't much to bring up but coffee and some ramen noodles Hanna had forced himself to eat the previous night. After that, Hanna had nothing else to give into except dry heaving, leaving his stomach twisting and convulsing painfully. When Hanna's labored breaths began to even out, he felt the hand on his back, rubbing—maybe the whole time, he wasn't sure—gently in an attempt to make him feel less miserable. "Fuck," Hanna sighed and spit some of the vile taste from his mouth. Toni's hand disappeared for a few moments, but then returned. A paper cup nudged at his fingers.

"This'll help with the taste," Toni said, and she was like a mother the way she guided Hanna's fingers around the cool cup. She made him use the water to rinse out his mouth and even though he kind of wanted to drink it, Hanna doubted he would be able to keep it down. Once he was through, Toni threw the cup away and removed the trash can from Hanna's grip. "Feel better?"

"Not really…" Hanna mumbled, leaning his head back. The room felt like it tipped ninety degrees with the simple motion. Toni said something that Hanna didn't catch, then something else before her fingers touched his face lightly.

"Hanna," she said, and he caught that.

"Hmm?" was all he could get out.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" she asked, and just the way she said it so loudly and clearly let Hanna know that it was probably her second or third time repeating herself.

"No…" Hanna answered before slurring out a quiet: "'m okay…"

"You're not okay," Toni said sternly, "so I'm going to drive you home."

"Juss leave me… 'm okay…" Hanna replied. His body felt like it was sinking into the floor, which was much better than before, with all the spinning and lurching and whatnot. It was light and kind of relaxing after everything from before and there was so much pain in his body physically that it superseded the guilt that had been slowly chipping away at his mental health. Toni said something again and again and her hands were on him, but Hanna didn't know what she wanted. He said he was fine and he was and all he was going to do was sleep...he hadn't slept in so long, years, it felt like, almost, but it wasn't really. The last time he had slept peacefully wasn't that long ago at all, but it was that time when he was still with Alex and they were happy and Hanna didn't have to worry about jealousy because they were getting a fucking _Chia pet_ shaped like Scooby Doo and _how could he have fucked that up so badly_?

More hands. Voices. Toni was there. Someone else. Maybe another person, too, Hanna wasn't sure. He was hot. His body felt like glass, like he'd break if someone moved him, so he was hoping that no one would try and move him. He didn't want to be like the puzzle that Toni dropped. The one that shattered and lay strewn in war-torn pieces on the concrete floor. He didn't want to be like that. If they just left him there, he'd be fine. Fine, really. Go to sleep and maybe his headache would go away and it wouldn't be so hot. Callused fingers brushed back his hair. Not Toni, but warm and nice and Hanna wanted to sob for reasons he couldn't understand. When something warm wrapped around him and Hanna felt himself lifted up, he did cry because it _hurt_ more than he expected. The tears were warm on his cheeks. Someone's voice in his ear, trying to comfort, but the words didn't make sense. Warm to cold to warm again. More words. Someone's cheek against his hair. Breath. Heartbeat. More lurching and moving. Jostling. Voices.

Then finally something soft and warm cocooning around him. Someone smoothing damp hair back from his forehead. Not Toni, but her voice was there. Then something cool, wet on his brow. His name came from far away and he wanted to say that he was okay, really, but the warmth was all encompassing and the softness pulling him in, pulling him under.

And Hanna did not fight.

**pqpq**

It was the heat that woke him.

Suffocating, burning, all-encompassing heat. Heaviness in his chest, in his breathing. Skin like it was on fire. Hanna wanted to writhe in this discomfort, but he could barely move beneath the weight on top of him, pressing in from all the sides. All his energy had been taken away, it felt like, leaving him with nothing but the heat and the heaviness tucked around him in bundles of cotton and cloves.

"Hanna."

His name came clearly from somewhere close. To the right. And it took effort, but Hanna turned his head, opened his eyes. Nothing but blurriness without his glasses. His name came again with someone's hand in his hair. Soothing, or trying. It almost hurt, the touch, despite its intentions to be gentle. Who was it? Hanna didn't know. He squinted into the void of shapes and colors. Gray and black. Something pale, maybe paper, maybe skin. Hair. Dark hair, he figured after a moment. But beyond that it was just shades and colors that didn't make much more sense than advanced calculus.

"Hanna."

The blurred figure said his name again. The fingers moved from his hair, down across his cheek. They were cool, like water threaded into silk against his skin. Hanna leaned into them because they chased the heat away. He made a noise in his throat to let the person know he had heard them. To make sure they knew not to move their hand away from him.

"How do you feel?"

The words were clear, at least, and the hand didn't move. Hanna closed his eyes against the blurriness in order to focus on speech.

"Hot..." he forced out with a sharp breath that hurt his chest. And when the hand began to slip away, Hanna somehow managed to move his arm through the folds of cloth and heat, weakly clutching with clammy fingers to keep it in place against his cheek.

"You have a fever," said the voice. Familiar was all he knew. No names. Just familiar. Good. _Safe_. The words piled on top of each other into a stack of abstract adjectives that made perfect sense, but maybe only to Hanna. That person leaned closer, maybe repeating the words again with clear articulation: "Do you think you can take some medicine?" Not in any position to argue, Hanna simply made a small sound in reply. Disappointment crept into his aching bones when the hand moved away from him. Pain followed when Hanna felt himself adjusted, pulled into a sitting position that made him hurt all over. The hands were gentle, but Hanna's body was too hot and fragile to feel anything but anguish. He swallowed something bitter when it was given to him, drinking the cool water that followed gratefully. It soothed his throat and body. Two cups brought relief that he thought he might never feel again. Then, something cold on his forehead. It felt _amazing _and nothing short of that. The voice again, but not clear. Just a soft, comforting murmur. The fingers, palm, cool against his cheek, neck. Felt good. Familiar. Safe. _Happy_, even, Hanna felt on some level. Hanna knew that sensation, that touch, from somewhere, but that place was far away. Too far, at least right now. And Hanna was too tired to go there. Remember that. It was just that sinking into oblivion and softness and cotton, something fresh smelling and cool and incense and herbs. Nouns that piled onto adjectives that made sense despite their fragmented meanings.

Maybe he fell asleep after that. Or during that, Hanna wasn't sure.

He knew could still feel things, hear a voice—sometimes _voices_—around him with indecipherable words. But it was all in the background. In the background of a dream he couldn't escape. A coffee shop on Valentine's Day. A heart inside a heart inside a cup of cappuccino. Alex across from him with the hurt eyes—gold like sap that would pour from a wounded tree—asking if there was any way to change his mind. Negative, always the negative, no matter how much Hanna wanted to take back the words. And then Alex trying to smile, trying not to cry—like that honeyed blood that escaped from the injured bark of a tree that had weathered too much hostility—maybe, as he said _I hope you'll be happy_ because he was just that kind of person. There was nothing Hanna could do about the dream except live it. Over and over again until the day inside the dream ran out and it was night and snowing ash outside. Then finally, a break in the anguished repetitiveness. The windows shattered as dark figures broke through the glass. Their red eyes were hungry.

Zombies.

Zombies eating the patrons by the door, behind the counter. The girl with the pink dreadlocks. Zombies coming towards their table with ravenous intent. The same zombies that were so close to Hanna, a breath away, when Alex pushed him aside. He went down beneath their writhing mass of bodies. Fell victim to the snapping jaws. Five, six on top of him, beginning to rip him apart right there. Hanna could only watch in shock, unable to move or think or breathe at all. _Why? Why did you do that? Why, Alex? Why? w_as all Hanna could ask, over and over. The zombies suddenly gone—vanished into nothingness—and it was just the two of them in the coffee shop with the broken windows and overturned tables and Alex, bleeding and trying to smile like he had been time and time again. His heart was gone, leaving a gaping wound in his chest. It was gone. Gone, gone. They had stolen it, devoured it: that kind organ that never seemed to want but always bleed. _Because I love you_ he said, without wavering, without hesitation. Even as he bled onto the floor and crimson dripped from his lips, there was not even a flicker of doubt.

And before he died, Hanna did not get a chance to say it back to him. He could only hold Alex's lifeless body against him and cry. Cry until the warm blood turned cold, icy, leaving him shivering and desperate and so _alone_ that Hanna could not imagine a worse Hell.

"You know he's not really dead."

The voice came from his left with striking familiarity. Hanna dragged his eyes from Alex's pale face and looked up to see a mirror image of himself: everything down to the gray pullover and the checkered shoes with the bit of tape on the toe. He carried a hammer in his right hand. A rune on the side held a bluish glow. It was the Hanna he knew well. The Hanna he had pretended existed after his parents had died to keep him company, to keep him from crying. It was the Hanna he idolized, loved, respected. It was the smart, funny, determined Hanna from his story: the Hanna he could never be in real life.

"What are you doing here?" Hanna asked, uninterested in his self as he turned his gaze down to the unmoving Alex in his arms. Dead because Hanna killed him. Because he took and took without saying _I love you_ like he was supposed to. Hanna was the one who had stolen his heart; ripped it out of him without thinking. Let him die. Left him for dead. Alone.

It was Hanna's fault.

"I'm not writing this story, you are," was the answer.

"Please go away, then," Hanna said, because there was nothing for him to say or do when Alex had given everything for him and Hanna had thrown it away.

"I can't," he replied. "This is the place for things that you've abandoned. So, I'm stuck here. And now, so are you."

"I didn't abandon you," Hanna answered, not commenting on the latter part. He hadn't abandoned himself. He had abandoned everyone else _but_ himself. He looked up when he couldn't keep his eyes on the damage he had done to Alex. His mirror image was still there, rocking back and forth on his heels; beside him stood the tall and quiet zombie who served as his partner. His warm orange eyes seemed to smile beneath the rim of his fedora, but it was in a sad, lonely manner for which only Hanna knew the reason why. Behind his two main characters, the entire cast from his book series: the argyle sweater-wearing vampire, the punk-rock Selkie, the blue-haired actress-by-day-werewolf-by-night teen, the shady surgeon, the blushing Mobster, the gentleman with the split personality and the body comprised of gears, the vampire hunter with a personal vendetta and a white ferret. The cast he had created with his own ideas, his own voice. His _friends_. The friends whose names he could not remember, because it had been so long. So long, hadn't it? He really had abandoned his friends, just as he had Alex.

All his fault.

"No, I didn't..." Hanna lied weakly, shaking his head in his own defense.

"Oh, but you did, sweetie," said a feminine voice from above. It was Sassybat in all her glory, angrily eying him from her upside-down position in the rafters. "Left us _hanging_."

"I was finally getting character development!" cried the blue-haired werewolf girl, who had Toni's face and style.

"We were just finding out who _that guy _was!" said the queer vampire, pointing ardently at the vampire hunter, who cocked his shotgun in a silent threat.

"I was so close to finding out _what I am_," said the nameless zombie, who seemed more melancholy than ever.

"I would like to know if I shoot anyone," added the polite personality of the man with prematurely graying hair.

"_Everyone_ wants to know if you shoot anyone," said the vampire, fang catching his lower lip as he spoke with a whine similar to Conrad's.

"You stopped our story," Hanna's twin said, and looked put out. "And it was just getting to the good part. Seriously! Who stops in the middle of an epic car chase? Huh?"

"I didn't...mean to..." Hanna murmured, looking at all of them. "I really didn't...things just got...hectic, is all..."

"You gave up, Hanna," said the other Hanna in a no-nonsense sort of tone. "It's not like you to give up like that. I should know. I mean, I'm you, right?" He smiled and it was like looking into a mirror, but one from a long time ago.

"I didn't...I didn't _want_ to..." Hanna said. They all looked disappointed. In his lap, Alex's body was cold and unmoving. It was all his fault for giving up. If he would have tried, maybe things wouldn't have ended this way; for Alex and for his characters. Where had all that passion gone?

"All you have to do is try," his own image said.

"I don't think I can fix it," Hanna replied, shaking his head. "I can't fix what happened. I can't, there's no way...things can ever be back to the way they were..."

"You won't know unless you try," said the quiet zombie. Even though he was green, ten years or so past his expiration date, he had Alex's smile.

"So go kick some ass!" added the Toni doppelganger in an encouraging manner.

"And don't fuck it up," said the Selkie, all brooding and Veser-like, even more so when he scowled at the were-girl when she slapped him disapprovingly. "No really, for serious, man."

"It'll all work out. It always does," Hanna's mirror image said, tapping his hammer into his palm with a grin that lit up the room more than his magic. "And when everything's back to normal, you can finally get _past _chapter fourteen!"

"Looking forward to it, darling," said Sassybat. When Hanna looked up at her again, he felt like the floor was sucking him in, pulling downward like quicksand. The corners of his vision darkened as his cast looked over him as he began to narrow and disappear.

"So don't forget!" called someone from above, but Hanna was so far down that he wasn't sure who it was at all. Maybe that was how Alice felt, when she fell down the rabbit hole? Hanna wasn't sure. All he knew was the darkness and the cold and then finally—after an eternity and a half—something warm. Arms around him, holding Hanna. Rocking gently back and forth. At first, Hanna couldn't understand why, until he came to himself, shaking and wheezing under the weight of that lingering illness that would not leave him. There were only blotches of color that Hanna could make out. Grays and blacks, with a streak of yellow in between, like a soft light. Around him there were blankets, two arms, someone trying to comfort him through the shivering that hurt his limbs, his head. His dream felt far away and remote in wake of this feverish stage, though Hanna knew one thing for certain.

He wanted Alex.

As selfish as that sounded, he wanted Alex there with him. He wanted to apologize, grovel, beg, whatever he had to do. Hanna didn't care. He just had to tell Alex before it was too late. Before Alex was hurt beyond that point of healing and couldn't take him back. The possibility that it was already too late made Hanna release a low, keening cry against the straightjacket of blankets around him. The arms tightened around his shoulders and the soothing, gentle rocking returned.

"You're alright, you're alright, Hanna," said a voice, quiet and comforting, casting a lifeboat out into a stormy sea of thought and regret.

"N-No..." Hanna replied. His mouth was as dry as chalk and his teeth chattered as he tried to force out the words. "S-s-stupid...s-so stupid..."

"You're not stupid," was the reply. Fingers stroking back his damp hair. His shivering lessened somewhat in response to that gesture, though he felt frigid down to his bones. "You're sick, that's all. You're alright."

Hanna shook his head against the blankets. Against a broad shoulder.

"Alex...I...I-I need to...where is he? Alex? D-Do you know...I need to find him.." Hanna murmured, exhausted and cold, but determined. He was going to try, like he promised. He wasn't going to give up. He couldn't.

"Don't worry, Hanna. You can talk to him when you're better," was the answer.

"N-No...I've to...now. I've to now...Alex, or else...I've to say sorry..." Hanna replied, in a jumbled, hurried mess of slurred consonants and vowels. "Please...A-Alex, I need to...say sorry...s'all my fault..." Hanna shook his head, beyond caring if he was crying because he had to make this person understand that he _needed_ to tell Alex all of this _now_ before it was too late. "So s-stupid...me. I'm s-s-so stupid...I've to tell him...Alex, I've to tell'im before...please..."

"Shhh...it's alright, Hanna. He knows," said the voice. The way the hand stroked Hanna's hair already had him slipping, like slowly falling down a well.

"But...Alex..." Hanna replied, trying to fight that sinking feeling, that voice that told him everything was alright when he knew it _wasn't_.

"It's alright," said the voice. It might have been from millions of miles away, but Hanna still felt the gentle press of an unmistakable kiss on his forehead. And just as the bend of light in all the gray faded into darkness, Hanna heard the voice, like a loving caress follow him into the void:

"I'm here."

**pqpq**

Hanna wasn't sure how he felt about nothingness.

It was light and airy, minus gravity, so Hanna felt like he was continuously falling. But maybe he wasn't moving at all and just remaining in place. He wasn't sure, because there was no way to judge how far one has gone into nothing. Or how long. There were no clocks in Nowhere, that's what he realized. Nothing at all except the dark. Even in the dark, there was nothing. Not even shadows upon shadows making shapes on shapes, like in the evening when all the lights are off in a bedroom and only the outlines of objects are visible. The darkness was too dark for that. And there was just emptiness. Or maybe it was fullness, Hanna allowed after some thought, though it was hard to tell. The state of being in Nothing, in Nowhere happened to be strange, though after a while, Hanna felt some sort of relief in the absence of pain; of hot and cold. Even more so in the wake of no thoughts; no concerns. Just this incredible lightness of being, surrounded by nothing and everything all at once. It would have been okay to just stay there—existing or maybe not existing, once again, Hanna found himself in that paradox—but Hanna knew there was something he had to do. Something, though what it was, he couldn't recall. Submerged in nothing and everything, Hanna was as content as he was ready to leave. And it was like this for some time, immeasurable, though the time had to have been quite extensive, until the nothingness started to abate. A shade lighter than black appeared, bleeding into the space. It fanned out like water eating through paper, dousing color in a place where nothing but black existed. And when it was through, it took on the appearance of a sky. Something gray above him in all directions. Dark, but not too dark. A shade that Hanna knew from somewhere.

Blinking, Hanna squinted and realized it was a ceiling. He knew it wasn't his from the color. From the fact that there were no cracks that he could see. Slowly, Hanna turned on his side, burrowing further into the plush blankets. They were dark blue and steel gray, with matching sheets and pillowcases. Hanna knew immediately that it was not his bed, because nothing matched. Plus, his bed didn't smell that good. And it wasn't as large, the last he could remember, anyway. It took him a moment to find the nightstand—nice wood with a smooth edge, which was better than the corner that jutted out from Hanna's, always really close to the eyes or within striking distance of the elbows every morning—and his glasses. The room came into focus immediately and Hanna knew it instantly.

Alex's bedroom.

Hanna couldn't compute what that meant for a good couple minutes of staring at the dresser and the half-open closet and the door that led to the bathroom. After everything that had happened between them—it _had_ happened, hadn't it?—the last place he expected to be was _Alex's bedroom_ of all places. Sitting up, Hanna pushed back the blankets and leaned over cautiously to yank open the middle drawer on the dresser. All of his clothes were there, neatly folded just as he had left them. A quick, but shaky journey to the bathroom—he felt a little better, but he knew he must have been pretty sick from the weakness that still lingered in his muscles—and Hanna found his toothbrush still in the holder. The hairbrush he had left still resided on the edge of the sink. Hell, even his stick of deodorant was still in the medicine cabinet. Hanna backed out of the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed in disbelief.

Had it all been a dream?

The break-up? The inability to apologize for his stupid decision?

Rubbing at his temples, Hanna wondered if everything had been a product of his own imagination. Maybe he had been sick in bed and had only dreamed all those horrible things? Maybe it was his second chance to make sure things went _right_ this time?

Hanna could only hope.

Beyond the bedroom, Hanna heard the front door open and then close, followed by quiet footsteps outside and the rustle of paper bags. Pulling a blanket from the bed, Hanna wrapped himself in it and slowly got up to investigate. Everything was just as it had been before, even down to the blue hoodie Hanna could see still remained on the arm of the couch. And just the sight of it sent hope bubbling inside of him: hope that maybe he hadn't fucked things up after all.

"Hanna?"

His name came from the kitchen, where Alex stood, a handful of fresh carrots half-way out of a brown paper bag. He looked surprised to see Hanna able to stand and he had to wonder how sick he must have been to warrant such an expression.

"Are you...feeling better?" he asked, putting the carrots down onto the counter. Alex looked a bit concerned and maybe even somewhat hesitant as he approached Hanna.

"A lot better..." Hanna replied and Alex gave him a small smile. It felt like a million years since he'd last seen it.

"That's good," Alex said, and even went so far as to feel Hanna's forehead. He knew the touch. The familiar fingers that he knew had touched his face, stroked his hair the way he liked it. The person who had probably put the cold compresses on his forehead and made him take medicine. It left him feeling warm to know that Alex had been with him the entire time he'd been ill. Hanna hoped he hadn't been delirious and done or said things he would end up regretting. After all, he knew he'd had dreams, but what they were comprised of, Hanna could no longer remember. "It looks like your fever finally broke."

"How long have I been...well, out?" Hanna asked, as Alex led him toward the couch.

"A few days," Alex answered, nudging him to sit down. Hanna obeyed the wordless request, allowing Alex to baby him and cover him with another blanket. "You probably had the flu, so it'll be another couple days before you're feeling one hundred percent again." Hanna flushed and looked down, embarrassed that Alex had to be the one to take care of him. And having the flu was certainly not the most attractive illness to have. Hanna hoped he hadn't thrown up on him at any point. The couch dipped slightly as Alex sat down next to him.

"Thanks for...taking care of me. I'm sorry I'm such a pain," Hanna replied.

"Don't worry about it," Alex said. "So, since you're feeling a little better, do you think you can handle something to eat? I was going to make you some chicken noodle soup."

"Chicken noodle soup?" Hanna asked, and his stomach growled loudly. Alex chuckled quietly, but up close, Hanna could see the tiredness, heavy around his eyes. He probably hadn't slept well with Hanna hogging the bed in his sick state.

"Homemade," he said and Hanna beamed.

"Really?" Hanna replied. Alex's gentle smile was all he needed in answer. And everything felt like it _had_ been before, so Hanna did not even think twice about putting his arms around Alex's waist to hug him gratefully. "You're the best boyfriend ever." The words had no sooner left his mouth when Hanna felt the subtle change in Alex's body language; the way his shoulders tensed, muscles turned taunt, as if to run away. Hanna's embrace turned limp as Alex pulled back. He looked as if Hanna had slapped him, though it was obvious he was trying to hide it behind a strained smile.

"I'll go start the soup," he said and stood up quickly, like he had been burned. Hanna reached out and grabbed his hand to keep him from escaping. Now or never.

"Alex, wait, I didn't..." Hanna began, stopped, then looked at Alex seriously, square in the eyes. So, at least his question had been answered: it hadn't been a dream. Hanna had made a big mistake after all. But that didn't mean he couldn't try to fix it, right?

Right?

"I'm sorry."

"I know," Alex replied and squeezed Hanna's fingers gently.

"I made a really big mistake. Like, a really big fucking mistake," Hanna said, holding onto Alex's hand like he would disappear if he didn't grip with all his might. "I can't believe I was so stupid and I know that it would be asking a lot for you to forgive me, but I—"

"Hey, you don't have to say anything else," Alex said and somehow, he smiled genuinely. It made Hanna feel like everything might be alright. "Don't worry about any of that right now. We'll talk about it in a few days. After you get better, okay?"

"But..." Hanna said, because he didn't want to stop, not when he had finally gotten enough courage to look Alex in the eye and apologize. His ears were burning as he tried to argue with a weak sort of: "I mean, I'm better now, so why can't we talk about it...now?"

"You may be feeling better, but you're not _better_ yet," Alex answered, and resumed his previous place on the edge of the couch next to Hanna. He kept Hanna's hand in his as he continued: "I want to make sure that...you're sure about everything you're saying, is all."

"I'm sure. Trust me, I'm sure," Hanna replied, looking down guiltily. "I've been sorry since the second I said what I said..."

"But you said it," Alex said. He didn't sound mad, just tired. "And because you did, it means that something was wrong. You weren't happy. Who's to say you won't be happy again, being with me?"

"N-No that wasn't it at all, it was just, fuck, something stupid..." Hanna clenched his hand around Alex's as he spoke. When he looked up, Alex's gaze met his and the words came tumbling out like Hanna had dropped them: "I was jealous, even though you told me I shouldn't have been, but I couldn't help it and—"

"Hanna," Alex said, and he stopped mid-ramble.

"Yeah, later. I know..." Hanna mumbled glumly, eyes falling to their hands. He hoped that he would be able to hold Alex's hand again like he used to.

"Hey," he said, raising Hanna's chin with a gentle finger. "I'll hear you out, I promise. So let's just wait another few days, alright?"

"Yeah," Hanna replied with a nod. Alex squeezed his hand in a reassuring manner.

"Okay. I'm going to start on the soup. You might want to call Toni in the meantime," Alex said as he stood up. "She's been pretty worried about you. Everyone has."

Hanna flushed, embarrassed, but did as he was asked and after Toni had worried his ear off with her concern and recommendations to help improve his health, he began working through a bowl of Alex's homemade chicken noodle soup. It was hearty and _good _with chunks of chicken and vegetables and noodles that weren't too salty like they came in the can. It had been weeks since Hanna had eaten something so substantial and he ate two helpings like he hadn't seen food in his entire life. As he practically inhaled his food, Alex sat at the other end of the couch. He even let Hanna have control of the remote. But instead of watching a rerun of Fringe, Hanna selected an episode of Law and Order SVU. It wasn't his favorite show, but he knew Alex liked it and that was enough.

Half-way through the episode, Hanna started to get sleepy from the warmth of the blankets and the food, so Alex encouraged him to get up and take a shower. It was nothing short of the _best shower on the planet_ because the water was hot and washed away all the grime and sickness that had lingered on his body. When he emerged, it was as if twenty years of stress and frustration had been wiped away, leaving him light and relieved, but still very tired. The only thing that would make the evening better would be Alex's forgiveness. But, as the philosopher Jagger once said: _You can't always get what you want. _

_But if you try, sometimes you can get what you need._

{The Rolling Stones fixed everything it seemed.}

"Can you stay?" Hanna asked, after he had gotten into clean clothes and Alex was tucking fresh sheets and blankets over his body. His glasses were already on the nightstand, so he could not see the other man's expression and only heard his response:

"Just until you fall asleep."

"Okay…" Hanna replied, though it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. He closed his eyes anyway, trying not to focus on the dip in the mattress where Alex perched beside him; on the warm palm softly rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him to sleep. It was too difficult though, even with the tiredness that had creeping up on him. "Alex…"

"Hm?" was his quiet response.

"Do you hate me?" Hanna asked.

"No. I couldn't ever hate you," Alex said, with nothing but certain sincerity in his tone.

"You're sure?" Hanna inquired softly, opening his eyes to look up at his blurry figure.

"I'm sure," Alex answered.

"Is that why you didn't get rid of my stuff?" Hanna asked.

"Yes," he said, and the sadness was raw in his tone. Hanna wondered if he was trying not to cry. "I missed you too much. I just couldn't…"

"I'm so sorry…" Hanna replied, closing his eyes. "I'm never going to fuck up like that again."

"Promise?" Alex asked. He sounded like he did when he smiled. Hanna felt the corners of his lips turn up, moving his hand from beneath the blanket.

"I'll pinkie promise," Hanna said, holding up the digit in question. "It's the most sacred of all promises."

"No going back on those, huh?" Alex asked.

"Nope," Hanna said. Alex hooked his pinkie around Hanna's and they shook.

And Hanna knew that everything would be okay.

**pqpq**

Hanna returned to work that Tuesday.

He felt better than he had in a long time. After a few good meals and hot showers, Hanna easily sprang right back into his old routine. The only thing different was that Hanna and Alex hadn't had their "talk" yet, so the redhead had no idea where they stood. Even though Hanna had stayed at Alex's place for the duration of his illness, that didn't ease the awkward moments, where neither of them could be certain if they were back together again or not. And even though Hanna would have rather had everything reverse back to the way it was, Alex was too damn respectful and slept on the couch instead of sharing the bed with him.

"So, what's the _deal_?" Toni asked, when they were on break that afternoon. She had spent the day getting Hanna caught up on what he had missed during his illness. Hanna had been embarrassed to find out that after he had fallen unconscious, Mr. Tibenoch _of all people_ had been the one to help carry him into one of the back offices that served as a makeshift clinic/bathroom/storage closet. He had wanted to call an ambulance, but Toni intervened—"I knew your insurance probably wouldn't cover it," she admitted and turned a shade darker when Hanna honestly thanked her for making that executive decision for his poor wallet—and instead, Toni had grabbed Alex, asking if he would drive Hanna home. He had agreed, but insisted that he take Hanna back to his place instead—"He looked really freaked out when he saw you. You know that he even asked Tibenoch for the next day off so he could make sure you were alright?" she said and smiled pointedly as she added: "I _told_ you he loved you" which just made Hanna fidget and turn red—and the rest, Hanna knew.

Well, except where that left them now.

"I dunno," Hanna said. He flicked the tab of his soda repeatedly in thought.

"Have you guys talked about anything?" she asked, looking hopeful for him. Apparently all it took was a near brush with death to get his friends back. Well, friend, at least. Veser was still in an unnaturally bad mood. With Conrad, it was just hard to tell.

"No, not yet," Hanna replied and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "We're going to, though. Tonight. We talked about that at least..."

"When you do, just be honest," Toni advised, pushed a loose strand of blue hair over her shoulder, and then continued: "Tell him the real reason why you made that decision. Apologize profusely. Then, have sex with the poor guy. Really."

Hanna went as red as fire truck.

"Stop blushing like you're some kind of virgin," Toni chided and slapped his arm. "Don't you want to do something nice for him?"

"Well, yeah," Hanna said.

"Sex is always a good choice. Maybe spice it up a bit? You could wear a schoolgirl outfit," Toni suggested with a smirk.

"Uh…I, um, no," Hanna replied, too flustered to say much of anything else. Luckily, Toni didn't have the opportunity to continue, because Tibenoch appeared in the break room. It had been a while since Hanna had seen him, only catching glimpses of him every now and then. Toni told him that he hadn't come to the Christmas party she had invited him to attend. Hanna wondered if that sort of gathering would have been more painful than anything and had insisted that she not be offended by his absence. When he neared their table, Hanna could see how tired he looked. It wasn't just the holidays that got to him, apparently. Maybe it was just hard going home every night to an empty house, where his family no longer lived.

"Mr. Cross," he said in greeting, "it's good to see that you're feeling better."

"Yes, much better, thanks," Hanna replied, and then continued after a short pause: "I wanted to thank you. Toni said that you, er, helped out when I was sick…Sorry for causing such a scene…"

"It's quite alright, so long as you're on the road to recovery," Ples said. "But I do encourage you that, the next time you're feeling ill, that you call in sick instead of forcing yourself to come to work." It wasn't supposed to be a reprimand, but it kind of felt like one.

"S-Sure, I'm sorry, again…" Hanna answered lamely, not able to add anything as Tibenoch excused himself and left the room with a gait that indicated he had somewhere else more important to be.

"That guy…is so weird…" Toni commented.

"Yeah, but he's a good guy," Hanna said.

"Yeah," she agreed, then leaned forward with her elbows on her knees as she regarded Hanna again. After a moment she said: "Maybe you should dress as a police officer?"

"No, Toni…"

"Yeah, you're right… _He_ should be the police officer and while he's handcuffing you, you can be like 'Oh, I've been such a _bad_ _boy_, I deserved to be punished'—"

"_Toni_!"

"What, a girl can't have fantasies?"

Hanna thought his face would remain a permanent shade of red for the rest of his life.

**pqpq**

Alex hadn't changed the locks after all.

That was the first thing Hanna realized when he went over to Alex's apartment that evening with a take-out bag full of Indian food from Salaam restaurant and a stomach that felt sick with nervousness. Everything seemed to be pointing towards a happy outcome—Alex's kindness, the admission that he had missed Hanna, the promise Hanna had made to him—but Hanna could never be sure.

The universe liked to fuck with him sometimes for fun.

"Hey," Alex said, when Hanna stepped inside. He smiled from his place in the kitchen, where Hanna could see him tossing a salad to go with their dinner. Two plates already sat on the coffee table with silverware laid out. Between them, a lit candle. A nighttime comedy show played softly from the television.

"Hey," Hanna replied, slipping off his shoes at the door. He held up the bag. "I have dinner."

"Great," Alex answered. Hanna heard him open the fridge as he shrugged out of his coat. "Do you want a beer?"

"_Yes_," Hanna said, perhaps a little too overenthusiastic, but he couldn't help it. Maybe some alcohol would calm him down and give him the liquid courage he needed to scrounge up the truth and tell everything to Alex without hesitating. As he was setting the bag of takeout on the coffee table, Alex came into the room, salad in one hand, two beers in the other. When Hanna took his beer, he noticed that Alex had a bottle of Ranch dressing tucked under his arm for the salad and it made him smile. Alex always remembered just what Hanna liked. It just made him determined to make things right. Failure was not an option.

"_The Big Bang Theory_ is starting in a few minutes," he said, taking a seat on the couch.

"Awesome," Hanna said and followed suit. Obviously, Alex wasn't in a rush to talk about things and, too nervous to bring it up, Hanna did the same. They ate with lighthearted conversation during the show and its commercials, not delving into anything too deep until the right moment. After dinner, Alex cleared away the dishes and then, half-way through a second beer, that right moment finally arrived.

"So, we promised we'd talk," Alex began, leaving Hanna nodding anxiously as he peeled at the edge of the label on his beer in a fit of nerves. He stopped there, though, put his beer down on the coffee table and then leaned back against the arm of the sofa. His expression turned nothing short of tortured when he continued with: "I guess...I want to know what I did wrong?"

"Y-You didn't do anything wrong!" Hanna replied, swallowing guiltily as he forced himself to keep his eyes from straying downward. "I told you that..."

"I must have done something to make you unhappy enough to want to break up with me," Alex answered reasonably. He didn't sound accusing at all, merely approaching it rationally; showing Hanna how he had taken the news as a reflection of his poor skills as an understanding boyfriend rather than assuming it was Hanna's own dysfunctional thought process that had led to such an outcome.

"You really didn't," Hanna said, and because he was tearing the label to pieces, leaned over to set it down next to Alex's on the coffee table. His eyes went down before he could help himself as he added: "I know it's cliché, but the truth really is that it wasn't you, it was _me_." Alex didn't say anything, waiting for Hanna to sort out the words that he wanted to say without interruption. "I just...after I saw those pictures...I mean, the ones with your old boyfriends...I felt like I wasn't..." _Good enough_ was what he wanted to say, but Hanna opted instead for: "...up to par."

"I'm not sure I'm following..." Alex replied, as gently as a person prodding an open wound. His feelings were the same, even after what Hanna had done. That and only that gave Hanna the courage to say what he could only ever feel festering in his chest during those weeks.

"Your exes...they're, well, I'm not like them at all," Hanna said, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment in thought. "I mean, they were all tall and really good looking and probably super smart and I got _jealous_ because that isn't _me_." Hanna couldn't take his gaze from his knees, even though he had told himself he wanted to look Alex in the eyes when he said this. It was just too hard to do that and continue. "I guess that I felt bad for me and for you...it's not fair for you to have to put up with me all the time. I'm inexperienced at sex and relationships and I'm always doing stupid things...I can't ever say anything right, either...So I figured it would be better if we broke up...that way you could find someone more like them, because it would be better that way, wouldn't it? Instead of having to put up with me all the time?" When Hanna finished, Alex didn't say anything for the longest time. The silence stretched on for a while until Hanna finally got the strength to look up. Beside him, Alex appeared as if he were trying to sort out all that information into something comprehensive.

"That's a really...big reason," Alex said, when it seemed like he had gotten all the facts into the correct places in his mind.

"Yeah, I know..." Hanna replied.

"You had all of that on your shoulders for weeks, didn't you?" he asked, to which Hanna nodded. Hanna saw nothing but guilt in the way his expression turned at that mute response.

"It was stupid. I know that now," Hanna said, bracing himself for the apology. He had to do it right no matter what. Honesty had been good, but mending was the reason he had told the truth so plainly and Hanna hoped he would be able to achieve that without ruining whatever was left of their relationship. "And I'm sorry...I didn't want to, but I didn't know _what_ to do."

"Do you still feel that way now?" Alex asked.

"Of _course_. If I could go back in time and make it not happen, I would, believe me," Hanna said. He couldn't tell Alex about the sleepless nights, the loss of appetite, the more than three days a week he spent crying himself sick on the floor of his bathroom. Alex would feel responsible, when Hanna knew that it had been his own self-inflicted punishment and nothing more than that.

"I know you're sorry for that," Alex said, and his palm was warm as it came to rest atop Hanna's clasped hands. "I meant about how you _felt_. All that stuff that made you upset. Do you still feel that way now?"

"I..." Hanna looked down at their hands, feeling his palms itch as they went from hot and sweaty to cold and clammy. "Er, I mean, not really. I'll probably always be jealous, because I like you so much, but it's not...it's not as burdensome as before..."

"But you still feel that way?" Alex prompted.

"A little," Hanna answered with an honest wince.

"You shouldn't," Alex said, and gave his hands a squeeze. "I really, _really_ like you, Hanna. I like being with you and only you. I'm not looking at anyone else, or comparing you to anyone else at all, believe me when I say that."

"But why?" Hanna asked, because damn, it had been plaguing him since the moment they started interacting. Alex really did like him, but the question had always remained: Why did such a good-looking guy find him sexually attractive? Why did someone like Alex spend time with someone half his size, his intellect, his patience? Hanna couldn't figure it out for the life of him and the pictures of his exes just wedged that question deeper and deeper until he couldn't take it anymore. How could Alex go from such attractive men to _Hanna_ of all people? "Why do you like me so much?"

"What's not to like?" Alex asked.

"You work with Veser. Have him explain some of it to you," Hanna replied, trying for a joke, but when he glanced up over the rims of his glasses, he saw that Alex did not look amused.

"Really," he said.

"I'm not hot," Hanna answered, ears turning red.

"I think you're hot," Alex replied.

"But I'm not..." Hanna mumbled, face heating up as well. "I'm not tall...you know, like them..."

"You're upset about your _height_?" Alex asked. The way he re-phrased it made Hanna feel suddenly even stupider than before.

"Well, er, yeah, I mean, everyone thinks I'm fourteen and doesn't take me seriously. And when we're out together people must wonder if you're babysitting me," Hanna said all in a rush of breath. As an afterthought, he added: "Plus, I can't even reach the top shelf in the kitchen without climbing on the counter."

"Hanna, a lot of people are your height," Alex said reasonably. "Did it ever occur to you that I may just be unnaturally tall?"

"What?" Hanna asked dumbly, looking up at him in confusion.

"Being over six foot isn't the greatest thing in the world, no matter how much you might think it is. It's difficult to find things that fit. Low doorways and fans are always on my mind. And if I hear another _how's the weather up there? _Joke, it'll be too soon." Alex replied. When Hanna thought about it, he recalled that Alex routinely tugged at the sleeves of his shirts, as if they weren't long enough to cover him to the wrist. But he never complained about his height, which towered over the the rest of their group by a good half-foot, and so Hanna had never thought about it. "You know what they say about the grass always being greener?"

"Got it," Hanna said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess, I just realized that you dated tall people and you guys looked good. We just look...odd, I guess."

"What's wrong with odd?" Alex asked, and Hanna didn't have an answer for that, only able to produce a goofy smile that Alex really didn't care about their heights like Hanna had. "Besides, I like your compact size."

"Really?" Hanna asked. "Why?"

"It's easier to hold you," Alex said, and the way he said it made Hanna realize how much he just _ached_ to have the other man's arms around him again. He missed that embrace; the way Alex spooned him when they went to sleep every night. Giving that up made Hanna wonder why he had been such an idiot. "Plus, it's handy if I need to carry you anywhere, like when you were sick."

"Yeah, did I thank you for that yet? Because, thank you for that," Hanna replied.

"You're welcome," he said, as if knowing that he said anything else, it would turn their entire conversation in a different direction.

"So you really don't care about my height?" Hanna asked.

"Not at all," Alex replied. Hanna almost missed the change from genuine honesty to a bit of sensuality as he added: "Besides, it's perfect if we ever want to get creative." The unspoken _in bed_ was plainly clear. Hanna flushed when he thought of a few ways for the two of them to benefit from his small size. It was then that he realized he hadn't gotten laid in a few weeks and that _needed_ to be remedied soon. And although Hanna was certain he would never wear a schoolgirl outfit, the thought of stepping it up another notch in the bedroom made Hanna want to push Alex down on the couch right there and just get to it.

Maybe Hanna should have borrowed those handcuffs from Toni after all.

"_Awesome_," Hanna said, to show his approval, in case Alex couldn't already tell he was fantasizing. Alex smiled at him, but wasn't about to let Hanna off the hook just yet.

"So then, what else was bothering you?" Alex asked to continue their conversation.

"Well, I just can't figure out why you like me. So my height doesn't bother you. What _is_ attractive about me? I've got frizzy hair—"

"I like red hair—"

"And dorky glasses—"

"I think they're hot."

"If you're into geeks," Hanna replied glumly.

"Maybe I am," Alex said and the way he said it indicated that that was the case. It explained why sometimes Alex would ask Hanna to leave his glasses on during sex. Not so Hanna could see, perhaps, but because he had a bit of a fetish with dorky glasses?

"Really?" Hanna asked and knew that he had thought right when Alex turned a gentle hue of crimson.

"Really."

"You're so weird," Hanna said.

"Yeah, I know," Alex replied and grinned. "I can't help it."

"So when you first met me, what was it?" Hanna asked, seriously.

"Well," Alex said, threading their fingers together, "it had to be your hair."

"You _really_ like redheads, don't you?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah, I really do," Alex replied, smiling as he took a breath and continued. "After that, I...couldn't stop looking at you. You're just so intriguing, I couldn't help it. And I wanted to talk to you, but I wasn't sure if you liked guys, so I tried to be subtle about it."

"Subtle doesn't really work with me..." Hanna said.

"I figured that out after a while," Alex answered and Hanna laughed, turning his hand in Alex's.

"So you...were physically attracted to me from the start?" Hanna asked.

"Well, yeah," Alex said, as if that was the most ridiculous question on the planet. "I'd never met someone with naturally red hair and blue eyes before. Plus, I liked it when you got embarrassed."

"W-What? Why?" Hanna asked, heat flaring up in his cheeks again.

"Because you're so cute when you turn red like that," Alex replied, and Hanna fanned himself in an attempt to cool down the warmth in his face.

"That's awful..." Hanna mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I can't help that either," Alex said with an apologetic smile. "But truthfully, I was just physically attracted to you in the beginning. Then when we started spending more time together, I learned to like _you_ for more than just what you looked like."

"But...I'm kind of difficult, aren't I?" Hanna asked.

"No, not at all," Alex replied and a tenseness Hanna hadn't felt in his shoulders until before that moment suddenly eased away at his honesty. "You're easy to be with. Not demanding, you know? We may not like all of the same things, but we still have fun. And you like my cooking. What more could I ask for?"

"Winning lottery numbers?" Hanna suggested, grinning at the compliment instead of the joke. Then he found himself laughing at the look Alex gave him in return. "Kidding."

"The point is, Hanna, that I'm happy with you," Alex said, all seriousness and warmth and sincerity that left Hanna unable to stop smiling. "I'm happy with every part of you, inside and out. Is that enough for us to start over again?"

Hanna put his arms around Alex, hugging him for all he was worth in an attempt not to cry with the bursting overload of happiness in his entire body.

"It's more than enough," Hanna said and when he pulled back slightly, he found himself on the receiving end of one of _those _kisses; the kisses he had missed so much that could turn the world upside down and inside out all at once. It was the kiss that let Hanna know Alex would be there through everything and that he _wanted to be there_. It was the kiss that told him he was beautiful and loved and appreciated and so many other complimentary adjectives that Hanna felt dizzy, giddy with joy. "_Thank you_," Hanna said, the words ghosting across the lips against his; the lips that would always be his.

And when Alex kissed him again, it was the kiss that said _I love you, Hanna Falk Cross_ without any words at all.

**pqpq**

Kind of a mushy end-ish sort of thing. I did have another part planned, but I think cutting it is the best option at this point, because this feels like a nice stopping place. Plus, if I added that extra chapter, it would seriously feel like a soap opera. You know, more than it does now XDD But if you guys want a wrapping-up-Drama-Llama-really-sugary-sweet-and-adorable-additional-chapter, I'll consider posting it X3

However, there will be an epilogue to kind of sum up everything that happened afterward if you guys want that! It'll be short, but sweet, and bring some kind of closure to everyone. If you want to read it, just let me know, if not, my parting words to you. Thanks so much for your support and love on this fic. It's been so much fun to write! I usually don't write comedy, so this has been a great exercise for me!

I hope to write a lot more for HINABN soon. I do have another AU planned, but I'm not sure how well-received it would be after this fic...so perhaps I'll write some canon stuff and then, my other AU story? What say you? In any case, thanks for coming along for the ride. You've all been awesome. And, of course, I hope you enjoyed it~!

And, of course, happy holidays to everyone. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah (a few weeks late?) and Happy Kwanza. Happy Festivus. Happy Non-Denominational Holiday? Happy Non-Religious-and-Completely-Commercial-Hallmark-Holiday? Hopefully I haven't offended anyone with my wishes of good cheer this time of year? Haha, but seriously. Have a great holiday whatever you celebrate, wherever you celebrate it. Spend it with people you love, forgive the people you hate (unless they really suck, then just hate them a little less this time of year lol) and of course, have a Happy New Year!

**Dhampir72**


	13. Regret

A/N: This is the sugary-sweet-and-ultra-dramatic-chapter-of-awesomeness before the epilogue that everyone seemed to want. Enjoy, but beware: there is porn and drama ahead! Almost 14,000+ words of it!

**pqpq**

Hanna thought he had gotten off light.

He knew that if it had been anyone else besides Alex, Hanna would have had a more difficult time of reconciliation. After all, his reasons for the break up were shallow, self-centered ones without any real basis for such an action except his own inability to _get the fuck over himself_. He had hurt Alex badly by doing what he did and regretted it with the burning passion of a million suns. In all truth, Hanna shouldn't have been so lucky, because Alex didn't have to take him back or forgive him or any of that, but Alex was Alex and that man was too nice for his own good. That in itself made Hanna realize that yes, he had gotten off light and no, he would never do such a terrible thing again to such a great guy so therefore, Hanna would make it up in the best way he knew how: make-up sex. Toni had suggested it and so had every prime-time sitcom, so Hanna was almost one hundred percent certain that make-up sex was the key to fixing a newly renewed relationship. Now, he wished he had paid better attention, because he and Alex had never really fought before, so Hanna had to wonder if there were any rules involved in the whole thing. Would the person who started the fight have to do something in particular? Were there any words that had to be said besides _I'm sorry_? Hanna wasn't sure, because it wasn't like there was a book on it or anything that he knew about, and if there was, hopefully he would never have to read it. But still, it would have been nice to know if make-up sex was different from regular sex, or if it was the sex that just happened to follow a make-up, hence taking its name.

In any case.

It started out a little awkward at first—mostly on Hanna's end, but anyway—due to their lack of contact over the past few weeks, but they got back into it quickly. Hanna knew he had missed many things while being alone, but it was then that he realized the extent of what he had given up. At first, those things had been small, but then the small things had started accumulating, multiplying, and growing larger, more solid, into this collection of things that Alex did and Hanna _wanted_ again. Kissing was definitely one of those things. Hanna could remember—months ago, which seemed like years—when he had been apprehensive about kissing, worried that he would do it wrong or be just plain bad at it. And maybe he had been bad at it at first, but Hanna had learned quickly enough. Alex was a good kisser, after all, and that fact alone had made Hanna jealous—because the only way to get good is to kiss a lot and Hanna didn't want to think about how many other people had been lucky enough to make out with Alexander Harper, Resident Sex God—in the past. Now, armed with the knowledge that Alex found him all-around attractive, Hanna found he wasn't as bothered as he had been about the whole thing, instead, finding himself feeling lucky and loved and appreciated instead of second best. Finally able to make out in the absence of preoccupation, Hanna instead worried himself about getting Alex out of his clothes as fast as possible.

"Hanna…"

His name came out with a contented sigh when their lips parted. By that time, Hanna had gotten the majority of Alex's shirt unbuttoned, hands already touching and caressing the familiar territory with unrestrained want. Oh yes, it was quite easy to fall back into physical intimacy, like a groove in Hanna's psyche that could never forget the feel of Alex's body and just what he liked to have done to him. Encouraged by the silent gesture of Alex's fingers curling in his hair, Hanna followed the path of his hands with his lips, scooting down along the length of the couch to keep moving south. He had only just gotten Alex's belt off and the top button undone on his pants—tongue quite preoccupied with that delicious flat of muscle right below Alex's navel that Hanna knew was sensitive and just all around _nice_—when Hanna heard his cell phone begin to ring.

"I'm _not_ answering that…" Hanna said breathing over Alex's skin, unzipping his jeans before tugging gently at the waistband.

"I'd be disappointed if you did…" Alex replied, his honesty raw and so needy-sounding that Hanna felt his temperature increase exponentially. His phone rang a few more times before falling silent, giving way to the quiet and privacy they needed to continue. And continue they did. Alex's eyes were half-harvest moons beneath his lashes as he pulled Hanna closer to him in order to kiss again; Hanna wasn't about to argue. Settled over his hips, Hanna lost himself in the heat of their kiss and the fingers sliding under his shirt and the tongue against his and then the jean-clad friction between them that was just _fucking yes_—

And Hanna's phone rang again.

"Ignore it," Alex said, and through the dazed heat in his body, Hanna could only nod and fall right back into what they had been doing. They only parted momentarily when Alex pulled Hanna's shirt over his head, discarding the garment carelessly onto the floor. The rough pads of his fingers raked over Hanna's skin, drawing what felt like a permanent tremble out of his body. The stimulus was almost too much, so Hanna pulled back a bit to take a breath, sliding Alex's pants down over his hips in the process. That familiar ache began pleasantly burning in his stomach with the knowledge that because Alex forgave him, they were going to have hot, fast sex on the couch and it was going to be _epic_—

His phone went off for a third time.

"Fuck me, really...?" Hanna grumbled to himself, sitting up as he pulled his phone from his back pocket with intentions to silence it before the device could ruin the moment further. However, he noticed that the caller ID said _TONI_ so Hanna knew he had to answer it or else he was in for an earful at work tomorrow. Guiltily, Hanna looked down at Alex, all half-clothed and delectable and _ready_ beneath him. "Uh...it's Toni..." Hanna explained weakly, knowing he was going to have to work twice as hard for answering his phone during their make-up sex of all things and of _all times. _Alex didn't say anything and put his arm behind his head, reclining back with a forced look of patience as he waited. Hanna knew he had to answer so that Toni would stop calling, but also knew that he had to make it fast. Annoyed that they had been interrupted, Hanna flipped open his phone and said without ceremony: "Now's not a good time, Toni."

"Just checking in to make sure you're not chickening out," she answered. Hanna opened his mouth to reply, but found himself speechless when he felt Alex's palms smoothing up his thighs with purposeful intent. So much for patience… When their eyes met, Hanna thought that Alex came across more devious than anything and really, that was an even sexier look than usual for him... In his ear, Hanna only vaguely heard Toni continuing on with something that he didn't quite catch, eyelashes fluttering as Alex sat up under him and began lightly placing hot little kisses along his throat and jaw. The brush of his stubble against the sensitive skin of his neck made the redhead whimper with want. "Hanna?" He couldn't find his voice despite his best attempts at replying, because when the position became too difficult for Alex, he nudged Hanna back against the arm of the couch and continued his actions from before.

"What?" Hanna asked, swallowing thickly as Alex's lips found all the right places.

"You're going to talk about this like an adult, right?" she asked, as Alex expertly undid his belt with a no-nonsense sort of glance that was just downright _hot_.

"Yeah…very adult-like I swear…" Hanna managed to get out, digging his nails into the side of his phone as Alex's kisses trekked lower and lower on his body. By the time he was down by Hanna's navel, he completely forgot Toni was there—going on with advice or something irrelevant in his ear the entire time— focusing too hard on holding his breath as Alex's hot fingertips crept under his waistband. But the look that Alex gave him said Hanna was in for a well deserved bit of punishment. As Toni chattered on in his ear, Hanna was powerless to hang up on her or interject or do _anything_ as Alex slowly pulled his jeans down and off, but that was all. He didn't go any further, teasing, watching his reactions as he lightly flitted his fingers over the front of Hanna's boxers. Hanna could only beg him with his eyes to just _do it already_, but Alex drew it out for a while longer. Making a mental note to mute his phone in the future, Hanna struggled with his voice to interrupt the voice in his ear: "T-Toni, look… thanks for everything, but I've got to—"

A quiet, choked sound escaped Hanna when Alex took hold of him.

"Hanna? You okay?" Toni asked.

"Y-Yeah, I just, I, fffff—" Hanna began, stopped, and bit his lip as Alex squeezed _just right_.

Point taken, Hanna presumed.

"What's going on?" Toni asked.

"Stubbedmytoegoddammit..." Hanna let out all in one breath, letting his head fall back as Alex teased him easily to full hardness. What they were doing was all kinds of awesome and wrong and even though it was punishment, hell if he was going to admit that he _didn't like_ what was happening. Besides, it was the first time in several weeks that Hanna had been touched like that and Toni listening on the line would not rain on his parade.

"You're supposed to me patching things up, remember? Not falling all over his furniture while you're running away," Toni replied smartly.

"I'm not running awaaaaaa—_ohmygod_," Hanna gasped out, and looked down at Alex, who appeared quite entertained by the situation as he so craftily applied his tongue _like a fucking pro_. That was taking it too far, Hanna thought, but wasn't about to try and stop him.

"You okay?" Toni asked, and she sounded slightly suspicious.

"Ye_aaaaaa_h," Hanna replied, and fuck if he was going to let Toni keep talking because Alex was going down on him and he didn't want to miss a thing. "I've gotta go...my, uh, toe's bleeding, soyeah_bye_." Hanna hung up on her before she could get a word in, muted the device and literally threw it over his shoulder, out of the way, so he could get both hands where they belonged. Tangling his fingers in Alex's hair, Hanna closed his eyes, tensing every time he was taken in deep; sighing every time he was released. A disappointed utterance escaped him when Alex moved back, looking up at Hanna with a small smirk that was just downright _sexy_.

"What did Toni want?" Alex asked conversationally, as if he was not centimeters away from Hanna's needy cock; as if he hadn't been so devious as to go down on Hanna while he was on the phone.

"Doesn't matter…" Hanna answered, breathless as Alex placed light kisses against the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen.

"It doesn't?" asked Alex. Hanna's grip tightened in his boyfriend's hair as he felt a gentle caress of a single digit along the length of his erection.

"N_oooo_…" Hanna whined, hips arching as Alex withdrew his finger.

"Really?" Alex taunted and Hanna could only writhe beneath him, frustrated and horny and kind of really enjoying the entire thing. Alex drew it out a little longer, allowing only the lightest of touches that left ghosting trails of heat over Hanna's skin, adding to his growing arousal. It was only after a few moments of this pleasant torture that Alex relented. Hanna felt the heat intensify, flooding through his veins so that his body clenched and trembled. So many weeks without any sort of release and Hanna's body could not take anymore after a few minutes. He managed to whimper out a warning, clawing at Alex's shoulders as he came so hard that Hanna's vision blanked completely to white for what felt like a blissful second inside eternal nirvana. And then Hanna plummeted back to earth, boneless and shaking with the lingering waves of pleasure that still rippled across his nerves.

"Mm…" Hanna tried to speak, but couldn't get a grasp on the English language just yet to tell Alex how _good_ that had felt. Above him, Alex's laugh, like silk sliding over Hanna's skin. With his eyelids so heavy, Hanna was unable to see and only to feel as Alex leaned over and kissed him. Hanna could taste himself, slightly bitter, on the tongue against his, but didn't find it unpleasant at all. Against his thigh, Hanna felt Alex's still-pressing need and moved with him accordingly, arms locking around the taller man's shoulders as he was prepared and then entered. Even as spent as he was, Hanna felt his body react to the stimulus, riding the fast rhythm with breathy sighs of encouragement for _more._ When Alex found his prostate, Hanna's body nearly arched completely off the couch in pleasure. His muscles clenched around Alex with each thrust and it wasn't long after repeatedly hitting that bundle of nerves that it ended. Alex came, hot and so hard that Hanna could feel the euphoria tripping across the muscles in his back and arms. A slight shift of their bodies and Hanna immediately followed with a smaller, though still pleasant, orgasm that left them both sticky and panting but sated upon the too-small couch. They curled up there, all arms and elbows, exchanging small, appreciative kisses that made Hanna thank everything he had gotten his second chance to make things right. There was no way Hanna would mess things up again, because he forgot how much life rocked when he and Alex were together.

"You're so awesome…" Hanna sighed, resting his flushed cheek against Alex's warm shoulder as they regained their breath.

"You're quite awesome yourself," Alex said and Hanna laughed, pleasantly exhausted. Alex pulled the blanket off the top of the couch, draping it over their intertwined bodies.

"I'm really not…" Hanna replied. "I mean, after everything…I can't ever stop being sorry for what I did…"

"It's behind us," Alex answered, and kissed his forehead, forgiving. "So let's just focus on us and now instead of then."

"You're so Zen all the time," Hanna replied, but wasn't about to argue any more than that. "I'm kind of jealous." Alex laughed quietly at that, the sound making Hanna feel like he'd just been propelled into the atmosphere. He forgot how good it felt to be able to make Alex laugh. "No, I'm being serious. How are you so calm _all the time_?"

"You should come with me to Kendo sometime. That will explain everything," Alex said.

"Really?" Hanna asked, then added: "I mean, I can come with you one night? It'd be okay?"

"Of course it would be okay," he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Hanna's hand reassuringly.

"And I'd get to see you wear that skirt?" Hanna asked, tilting his head to glance up at him. It was perfect timing, too, because Alex went a little red as he replied:

"_Hakama_ are pleated pants, Hanna."

"Maybe in Japan. In America, that's a skirt," Hanna said.

"You would get to see me wear my _uniform_," Alex replied, shaking his head as if he didn't want to argue about his traditional attire with some _gaijin_ foreigner any longer.

"That's hot," Hanna said and Alex laughed softly again. "You know what else is hot?"

"What?"

"That we just defiled your couch."

Alex snorted and then his shoulders started shaking. Hanna knew he found it hilarious, because when something was so incredibly funny to him, Alex didn't make a sound when he laughed. It was this mute sort of laughter that suited his nature perfectly and Hanna believed it to be one of the most adorable things about his-and yes, he could finally say it again-boyfriend. After a moment, Alex got a hold on himself and cleared his throat.

"You're right," he answered, sounding breathless, though still entertained as he added: "Let's invite Conrad over sometime and tell him all about it."

Hanna thought he would die laughing.

**pqpq**

Almost everything went back to normal.

{Or at least, as normal as normal could be.}

Toni was back to one hundred and twenty percent being Hanna's friend again, which was good as ever, because her enthusiasm prompted Veser to not be such an asshole anymore. With Conrad, as always, it was hard to tell, but Hanna had a feeling that he hadn't really cared in the first place, so nothing had truly changed between them. They all went back to hanging out on weekends, spending the evening of St. Patrick's Day at a club in Portland, where they served green beer and Veser's band had people nearly pushing the doors down to get inside. When they were all done playing close to midnight, Veser left his band mates in order to cram into a booth in the corner with the rest of them. There, Toni decided to make an announcement, starting with a cheery:

"I have an announcement to make!"

"You're not pregnant, are you?" was Conrad's immediate reply. Veser went white, then this sick sort of green at the thought. Hanna found it funny, but didn't laugh. If Worth had been there, he probably would have and said something hilariously inappropriate.

"Are you saying I look fat?" Toni asked, narrowing her eyes, all cheery disposition gone.

"No…" Conrad said, sinking down in his seat under the weight of her glare. "Carry on…"

"So, my announcement that _doesn't_ have to do with having one in the oven—" Toni began.

"So, you're not pregnant, right?" Veser asked for clarification, and Toni smacked him, hard, upside the head.

"You twit, I'm on the Pill. And more responsible than all of you," Toni said pointedly. Veser's look of relief came across comical, but Hanna had a feeling he had truly been nervous about _that_ kind of news. As Veser drank his beer to calm himself down, Toni folded her hands and said sweetly: "Now, will everyone kindly shut the fuck up so I can talk?" Hanna made a motion for her to continue, and the glowing cheeriness returned. "I just got the call this afternoon: the judges loved my audition!" A beat and then: "I'm going to be on TV!" The responses were immediate, with Veser's carrying the loudest over all of them:

"That's awesome!"

"Congratulations!"

"That's much better than being pregnant…."

"NO WAY! You fucking ROCK!"

Two rounds later and they were all laughing and cheering with the rest of the crowd in the place, bragging to strangers about their friend who was going to be on TV. Toni was all smiles and looking kind of embarrassed with all the attention, but Hanna knew she loved every minute of it. She had finally gotten her big break and who knew where she would be after that? Hanna didn't want to think about their group breaking up to go their separate ways, so he didn't, or as much as he could anyway. They spent the rest of the night singing and listening to great bands and Hanna kissed Alex in the middle of a crowd of strangers and didn't care at all.

Luckily, because filming didn't start for another few months, Toni didn't have to leave right away, so everything really did feel normal when they returned to work after a drunken night on the town together. The biggest difference, however, was that Alex no longer worked with them. He hadn't tried to reinstate himself after his two weeks notice and so, just as everything had been returning to normalcy, there was an abnormality: Alex was suddenly gone from their lives and lunch table. It was strange, Hanna thought, because without his presence there—even from halfway across the store—the entire place felt different. Wrong, even, on some strange level.

"I wasn't planning on staying forever anyway," Alex explained, when Hanna told him about this feeling a few days after his initial absence. They were sitting at the dining room table, constructing the Chia Pet that Alex had purchased over a month ago. He had dragged it out of the closet the previous day and insisted that they work on it so their garden could start growing. Hanna had agreed readily, because Alex still wanted him and his messy clothes all over the house and his Chia Pet shaped like Scooby Doo to stick around for a while longer. That had made Hanna ridiculously happy, but his creeping feeling of abandonment trumped his joy temporarily at that moment.

"Really?" Hanna asked, feeling a little glum at that admission. He should have known that from the beginning, but somehow had lived under the delusion that Alex would never quit and they would never be separated at work or at home. It really had been foolish, Hanna knew, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"It was really an in-between sort of thing," Alex replied. "I needed a job when I got back to the States. And after all those expenses in Japan, plus moving from Ohio, I really had to have something that paid _anything_."

"Yeah," Hanna agreed, though it came out halfhearted as he adjusted the pottery onto the dish. Alex paused in reading the instructions to look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hanna said again and, trying for honesty, added: "It's just weird without you there."

"I know, but it'll be alright," Alex replied, smiled, and then went back to the instructions. After a moment of reading, he got up and went into the kitchen, where Hanna heard him filling a cup of water.

"So, you didn't quit because of me, right?" Hanna asked, after he heard the faucet turn off.

"Not entirely," Alex said, after a moment. He returned to the table, set the glass down beside him, and picked up the seed packet.

"Not entirely?" Hanna repeated.

"Well, I was going to leave eventually, as I said," Alex replied, fiddling with the edge of the plastic package. Hanna could almost see him trying to think of the best words to continue. "And then, after we…you know, I just knew it was awkward and hard for you, so I figured it would be a good time to quit."

"Oh," Hanna said, and his voice came out kind of small. Using the tip of his nail, he scratched idly at Scooby's orange nose.

"There's something else bothering you," Alex said after a moment. Hanna looked at him, then dropped his eyes to the wood grain of the table.

"Are you going to move?"

"Move?"

"You know, move? Away? To Portland, or somewhere else?"

"I'm not really planning on it," Alex said.

"Wait, what?" Hanna asked. If Alex found a new job somewhere—or got accepted at the culinary institute, whenever he decided to actually _apply_—he'd have to move. He would move and leave Hanna behind. It was as simple as that.

"I'm not moving," Alex said again, opening the seed packet. He spread them onto the wet clay into the neat rows.

"Why?" Hanna asked quietly, watching him, gripping his chair as he waited for the answer.

"Because you're here," Alex replied simply. "And this is where we live."

It was so simple, yet sincere and Hanna felt more loved than ever before. Even though they didn't work together anymore, Alex wasn't going to leave Hanna behind. They still had each other and the apartment and their Chia Pet and that was all that mattered.

**pqpq**

Hanna was like a kid going to Disneyland.

It was all because it was Wednesday night and Alex had made good on his promise of bringing Hanna to visit his Kendo class. Hanna could barely contain his excitement as they drove the odd hour or so up to Portland, bouncing in the passenger seat as they took the familiar stretch of highway.

"Why are you so excited?" Alex asked, and he sounded as curious as he did pleased by Hanna's enthusiasm for his hobby.

"I've never seen people do Kendo in person," Hanna replied. "Plus, I get to see you in a dress."

"For the last time, Hanna, they're _pants_."

They exchanged some fun banter back and forth until Hanna finally agreed that yes, they were pants and no, he would not mention that they were anything but in front of Alex's teacher, and of course he wouldn't be disrespectful of the clothing in the dojo, he promised. Hanna decided to follow through on his word so that he wouldn't embarrass Alex in front of his teacher and peers. Also, whether they were pants or a skirt, Hanna didn't much care as long as—at some point in the evening—he would be taking it off Alex with his teeth.

Or something.

"Woah, so this is what a dojo looks like?" Hanna asked. From the outside, it looked like just a regular building with one floor and concrete walls and limited parking, like every other place on the block. However, the inside was beautiful; Japanese in the sense that it was narrow, but functional and well kept.

"Ah, very close to one," Alex said, sitting down on the low stairs of the open area to remove his shoes. There were cubbyholes along the wall, where other shoes and boots had been placed neatly. Hanna followed suit, not wanting to incur the wrath of some old, shriveled up martial artist with a clean floor fetish and a habit of beating the shit out of redheads. When they had put their shoes away, Hanna followed Alex down the hallway to a sliding door, which he opened to reveal a large room. The floors were made of a stiff blue cushion, which Hanna figured were there to soften falls when they occurred.

"It's bigger than I thought," Hanna commented.

"This is the main room that we use two times a month when the most of us are here," Alex explained, then pointed over to the side. "If you want to take a seat on that bench over there, I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay..." Hanna said, and before he could make another sound, Alex was gone from behind him. With nothing left to do but do as he was told, Hanna stepped inside and went to take a seat on the bench. He didn't have to wait long until people started to file in, all wearing the same uniform that Alex kept in the closet at home. Some had designs or characters on the sleeves or back while others were plain, like Alex's, but all of them were wearing arm guards, a breast plate, and carried both a helmet and a nasty looking wooden sword. The majority of them were male—though Hanna spotted a few girls as well—and all of them looked at him suspiciously. They knew an outsider when they saw one, Hanna supposed, and tried not to look outwardly embarrassed by the negative attention.

He was saved when Alex appeared in the doorway dressed in full uniform. Just the sight of him released some of Hanna's tension and the smile he directed at the redhead was enough to make him not regret his decision to come and watch. He went over to the group and spoke to them in half-English, half-Japanese, bowing politely as he gestured in Hanna's direction a few times—he distinctly heard the word _boyfriend,_ though it sounded like _bo-ee-fu-ren-do_, which made Hanna feel overjoyed and embarrassed all at once_—_until the group started nodding a bit and their harsh glares from earlier eased up considerably.

"It's okay that I'm here, right?" Hanna asked, when Alex came over to the bench.

"It's fine. They just didn't know who you were. I forgot to tell them, which is bad on my part..." Alex said. He had his helmet wedged under his elbow and although the bars over the mask looked mean, Hanna thought that the entire outfit with all its rough armor and traditional-ity was extremely _hot_. "But don't worry. _Sensei_ knows that you're visiting and he was the most important one to tell."

"So he won't kick my ass, right?" Hanna asked and Alex smiled in the way that just lit up his entire face.

"No, no, you'll be alright," Alex said, and then took a seat beside Hanna. "But I do want to warn you that...you're going to see a side of me you haven't seen before..." He seemed very serious about what he was saying, so Hanna didn't crack a joke like he had wanted. "It's going to be weird, I think, but maybe you'll understand more about...my, how did you put it?_ Zen-like_ qualities?"

"You _are_ Zen," Hanna replied definitely. "Not _Zen-like_ at all. Completely Zen."

"Well, it's from practice, I guess," Alex said, and sounded a bit like he was struggling with English as he continued: "but you'll see that this is where, if I'm...having difficulties or something, I can let it out _here_ instead of letting it out elsewhere."

"So basically, Kendo keeps you from being a crazy fuck like the rest of us?" Hanna asked.

"In a sense...I guess so..." Alex said, but could not elaborate further, as the class was starting. He left Hanna, and joined his class in warm up exercises. The _sensei _came in after a moment—not as old as Mr. Miyagi, which Hanna had thought all martial art masters on principle had to look like—and began barking at them in Japanese. Hanna, confused, watched as the _sensei_ made the group do more exercises—repeating forms that had names or numbers or something that Hanna couldn't follow—before instructing them to do something else. The helmets went on, transforming the entire group from a bunch of normal-looking average Joes to scary, wanna-be _samurai_. Hanna kept his eye on Alex the entire time, not wanting to miss whatever character-changing perception he might encounter from this observation. The group split up into pairs and positioned themselves on opposite sides of the room. Two people would then step forward and one would remain in a specific position as the other raised their sword. And then—that person would rush the stationary partner, shouting out a shrill sort of battle cry as they swung the sword at specific points on the body. If there was a point system, Hanna missed it, because it seriously looked like one person had just been given permission to go absolutely nuts on the other. Every blow from the sword against the armor echoed, making Hanna wince and wonder how people thought being beaten with a wooden rod could be _fun_.

{The conclusion: Japanese people were weird.}

At the very end of the row, Alex and another person went through the same routine of leaping and yelling. Even though Alex was wearing armor, Hanna found himself edgy and nervous as his opponent rushed him in quick, even paces, swinging the sword as he went. Alex took the blow to his wrist, chest, and helmet in succession without flinching—though Hanna was doing enough for him, he supposed—and bowed when the exercise had finished for his partner. Switching off, Hanna watched as the other practitioner took a solid stance and Alex raised his sword.

And then, it happened.

It was that life-changing-character-perception thing that Alex had warned him about earlier. That same Alex, who never spoke above an indoor voice or had any sort of violent tendencies—minus those towards Veser and they were in the teen's best interest anyway—suddenly changed entirely. Hanna actually started, nearly falling off the bench at the sound of Alex's shout. It was deep and loud, enough that Hanna actually felt it reverberate in his chest. That, combined with the ruthlessly precises swings of his sword, left Hanna confused and freaked out and amazed all at once.

{And kind of horny, too.}

He never thought his quiet, reserved boyfriend could take up such a violent sport and practice with such passion. Sure, Hanna knew that it wasn't all rainbows and kittens in Kendo, but he hadn't expected people to be running and beating each other like they were doing. And when he found out that what they had been doing wasn't even sparring, it was _warming up_, Hanna felt almost overwhelmed. Watching the sparring matches afterward was unbelievable compared to what he had seen before. There was more movement from both parties; the swords came into contact and let out harsh, booming echoes all around them. So it was a little frightening at first, but when Alex went up with his partner, Hanna forced himself to not blink so he didn't miss a thing. They must have been the more experienced of the group, because their sparring seemed more dangerous with its faster pace. Their similar sounding cries only seemed to accentuate and deepen the meaning of their circular motion, looking more like a dance with their quick footwork and the graceful, arching motions of their swords. It was quite beautiful in all actuality. And the more Hanna watched, the more he found he began to appreciate the art of it. He knew now where Alex had gotten his build: the strong back and shoulders, the lean waist, the arms, fuck, those _arms..._

{And yes, by then, Hanna was most definitely horny.}

The spar ended in a tie, somehow. Hanna couldn't follow much of the point system at all, but even if he had known everything in the world about Kendo, he wouldn't have been able to understand. He was too busy thinking about Alex's arms and damn, it really had been nice watching him swing that sword around while wearing that outfit. Skirt or pants or whatever, the whole get up was making Hanna want to be completely _dominated_ by Alex. And when he took off his helmet after class was dismissed, Hanna forgot words entirely because Alex was all flushed from the exercise and looking glowy when he smiled. It was just so _unf_ that Hanna couldn't speak, only shiver slightly as a familiar ache settled in the pit of his stomach.

"So...what did you think?" Alex asked, and he seemed a bit hesitant by Hanna's staring in complete silence. The quiet, reserved boyfriend was back from that other state of mind he had been in out there on the mats. Just knowing that there was a completely different side of Alex made Hanna feel more intimate with him than previously. It was almost as if Alex had been keeping a secret, but decided that he wanted to share it with Hanna and no one else. That feeling alone left Hanna's body confused between happiness and arousal, unable to contain both at the same time for very long.

"It...kind of does explain a lot..." Hanna said after a moment and Alex kind of gave him a raised eyebrow that asked if it was a good or a bad thing. "Thanks for letting me come along."

"Thanks for coming," Alex replied, and he looked a bit more relieved than before. Happiness still lingering, but its affects less about-to-burst than before, Hanna then focused on his more pressing urges. Pulling Alex a little closer by the strap of his chest plate, he said:

"I haven't come yet, but I plan on it."

Alex went a really nice shade of crimson.

"Backseat. Ten minutes," Hanna said, pausing to glance at Alex's attire before adding: "Wear that."

For once, it was nice to see Alex befuddled and speechless.

**pqpq**

Hanna never thought anyone would ever come to him for advice.

After all, he wasn't the best role model in the world and he didn't know a thing about relationships or people or _feelings_ in the slightest. But apparently, Hanna looked approachable or knowledgeable or _something_ because on a rainy Wednesday at the beginning of April, he found himself confronted.

By Conrad.

"What's up?" Hanna asked, when Conrad came up to his table in the break room. He stopped writing in his notebook—drafting letters to potential literary agents tended to be stressful and annoying, Hanna discovered—when Conrad didn't say anything in reply. All he did was stand there, looking as if he regretted something and wanted to run away. Hanna let him loiter there for a moment without harassment until the Good Friend Code required him to ask: "Connie? You okay?"

"Don't call me Connie," he replied, breaking out of his apprehensive mood at the use of the nickname. He wrung his hands and then sat down across from Hanna. Then he started wringing his hands again.

"Uh…okay," Hanna said, and then tried again. "Are you…doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Conrad answered quickly and then snapped at Hanna: "I look fine, don't I?"

"You want me to answer honestly or lie to your face?" Hanna asked dryly. Conrad gave him a scathing look. "Hey, you walked into that one. So why do you look like a nervous prom date?"

"Shut up, Hanna," Conrad said, but there was no force in it. He sat down heavily in the chair across from Hanna, put his arms over his chest and glared at nothing in particular. Hanna didn't say anything for a few minutes, letting Conrad get all his pissy, menstrual cycle shit out of the way before he decided to try again.

"Do you want to talk about something?" Hanna asked.

"No," Conrad replied. He looked enraged, stood up, then suddenly defeat took hold of him and he sat down as if his shoulders had been crushed beneath lead. "Yes."

"What's going on?" Hanna asked, going in that slow, pulling-teeth sort of way he had to approach conversations like these with Toni. It was strenuous, but Hanna had eventually figured out how to get her to talk when she didn't want to. Apparently Conrad was girlish enough that the technique worked on him too.

"Nothing," Conrad said. He tapped his fingers into the crook of his elbow, resuming his glaring.

"You sure?" Hanna pried gently. "Nothing at all?"

Conrad muttered something that Hanna couldn't hear. After a few nudges from Hanna to repeat himself, Conrad said it loudly and clear enough that people three rooms over could hear him:

"It's about _Worth_, okay!"

The moment Conrad said it aloud, his expression turned from pissed off to nearly frightened, as if he felt like he betrayed himself by saying it in front of someone else. And here Hanna thought he was socially awkward.

"What about Worth?" Hanna asked. Conrad's sulky look came back, but the tapping of his fingers quickened in a nervous gesture against his arm. Hanna watched him for a moment, noticing that beneath the band of his watch, there were fading purple bruises. Even though Conrad could be a whiny little bitch sometimes, Hanna could only hope that Worth wasn't abusing him in ways that Conrad didn't want to be abused. Swallowing thickly, Hanna tried a roundabout way of asking things: "I mean, is everything…okay? Are you guys…fighting a lot or something?"

"W-What? Why?" Conrad asked quickly, looking around the room like someone had discovered his secret and told Hanna, just to fuck with him.

"I'm just trying to figure out what's bothering you," Hanna replied, attempting at a Zen sort of approach like Alex with his calm voice and non-judgmental tone. Conrad's shoulders sunk from their bunched up position.

"We're always fighting," Conrad said, but it didn't sound like a confession. More like a statement.

"Always?" Hanna asked and Conrad nodded. At least he was talking, so Hanna continued: "Why?"

"We're different," Conrad replied vaguely.

"Oh," Hanna said, "but you must have something in common." Conrad gave him a look that Hanna knew all too well. "I mean, besides sex."

"No, not really," Conrad said dully.

"Do you want it to be more?" Hanna asked. "You know, more than just sex?" Conrad's hard exterior softened into this vulnerable frown. Never before had Hanna seen him so openly share his feelings before.

"Fuck if I know," Conrad finally said, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "That guy…I just, fuck, I don't know."

"Maybe you should talk about it with him?" Hanna suggested. Conrad didn't release his nose, eyes scrunching up behind his glasses as if Hanna were giving him a headache.

"No," he said. "That would be a bad idea."

"Why?" Hanna asked.

"It's supposed to just be casual," Conrad said, dropping his hands into his lap. "That's what we both wanted and so we agreed on that. Nothing more."

"But…maybe you're having second thoughts?" Hanna prompted.

"I know it won't work out," Conrad said and he seemed disheartened at that knowledge. "I'm not stupid."

"Why?" Hanna asked.

"You don't know Worth," Conrad replied and Hanna thought that was fair enough. He didn't know Worth well enough to know what he wanted and didn't want. From the outside looking in, Hanna just saw two guys who were into each other. Beyond that, Hanna didn't know what else kept them together. Worth didn't seem like the type to enjoy the faggy things that Conrad admitted to liking and Conrad probably wasn't into…whatever fucked up fetishes Worth most probably had. "It just won't."

"Oh," Hanna said again, feeling rather helpless to make Conrad feel better about his predicament. "So maybe…if things aren't going so well…"

"Things are going well," Conrad replied and the way he blushed saying that made Hanna wonder just how good dirty, rough sex could actually be. "I just want to have sex in a bed."

Hanna stared at him, openly confused for a moment.

"Wait, what?" Hanna asked.

"Just what I said. I want to have sex in a bed instead of everywhere _but_ a bed," Conrad replied. His cheeks retained a bit of a flush, but he didn't clamp up. "Worth won't come over to my place and he won't invite me over to his, so we keep having to find bathrooms and use the backseat of my car and—"

Hanna made a _hold the damn phone_ motion because that was way too much information.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Hanna began, thought that _straight_ wasn't the right word, but continued anyway: "You're fine with everything and you don't want anything more but the reason you're having a problem is because you guys aren't having sex in a bed?"

"What's so hard to understand about that?" Conrad asked, and the bitchy look was back.

"So you don't want anything more out of your relationship than a bed?" Hanna clarified.

"Exactly," Conrad said. Hanna then understood where Conrad's bruise came from—and his occasional limps—and felt a little bad for the man across from him. After all, Hanna usually had the comfort of a bed and enjoyed the company of a partner with whom he knew cared more about him than at just the physical level. Conrad, on the other hand, was in a relationship where the physical intimacy was the only strand of connection that he shared with his partner, knowing that anything else would fail. Even though Conrad's sex life was probably filled with all sorts of debauchery and fun, Hanna knew it had to be lonely. Conrad looked like the cuddling type, whereas Worth looked like one of those people who could kill kittens if he wanted. The thought of them snuggling afterward was bizarre.

And kind of disturbing.

"Ah," Hanna said, forcing the mental images away before he could be permanently scarred. "Um, so back to my advice before. Maybe talking to him about it?" Conrad shook his head, like it was the worst advice ever. "But if you don't, he won't know? And when you talk about it you don't have to act all, uh, er, wanting to make him commit or anything. Just tell him that…you want to try something… horizontal for once?"

Conrad went red.

"W-Well m-m-maybe…" Conrad replied, and looked thoughtful as he rubbed his bruised wrist and added unnecessarily: "It's been hard using handcuffs in the car…"

"Conrad. The mental images are…awful, so don't..." Hanna pleaded weakly, shaking his head, as if it would help clear his mind of the disturbing scenes. "Ugh, so gross."

"So mature," Conrad said.

"You started it," Hanna replied. The other man raised an eyebrow at him, as if he had been witty and classy the entire time while Hanna had fumbled around like an ogre.

"In any case," Conrad began, clearing his throat. His nervousness seemed to be gone, replaced with his usual better-than-everyone-else airs and unamused expression. "I'll attempt..._talking_ to Worth..."

"You say _talking_ with a strange sort of emphasis..." Hanna noted aloud.

"Whenever we try talking..." Conrad flushed crimson suddenly and holed up with whatever he was going to say. Hanna wondered if it had anything to do with fellatio and, if a gambler, probably would have put money on that.

"Just...tell him it'll be worth his while if he hears you out?" Hanna suggested, lip curling up slightly as the thought of Conrad and Worth came back to his mind. It was weird and awkward and Hanna shuddered visibly at the horrific thought of handcuffs entering the equation. Worth, once again, was the kind of guy who could kill kittens... "Just...ah, well, be safe?"

Conrad gave him a weird look as he stood up and straightened his apron.

"Well, thanks, I guess. For the advice," Conrad said, though the words sounded stiff and forced. His embarrassment was back, as if he couldn't believe he had sat down at the same table with Hanna and told him as much as he had.

"Uh, no problem?" Hanna replied and because curiosity killed the cat and everything, he had to ask: "So, I've gotta know...why come to me for advice anyway? I mean, I'm not really good at this sort of stuff."

"Veser's straight, Toni's a woman, and Alex is too fucking _nice_," Conrad replied immediately. Hanna was going to make a joke and ask if Conrad had any other friends, but then decided against it because it might be jabbing and a little too mean.

"Oh," Hanna said, and then smiled a bit. "At least I'm in your top five!"

"No, Google and Yahoo are in my top five," Conrad replied, in that sarcastic way that told Hanna he was kidding but wanted to be scathing for the hell of it.

"I thought we were friends," Hanna retorted in the same sort of tone.

"You were wrong," Conrad answered. "I'll make it Facebook official and everything."

"That's so gay," Hanna said pointedly, and the two of them griped and bitched back and forth at each other out of habit for a while for funsies. Later that day, on Hanna's break, Conrad made him a caramel latte macchiato as a way to say _thanks for not freaking the fuck out about our conversation and actually listening to me as a human being and giving me advice like a friend_. Or maybe it was poison, Hanna didn't know and drank it anyway.

"I went light on the rat poison," Conrad said and Hanna grinned from ear to ear.

"I knew you cared."

**pqpq**

The next few weeks were quiet and rainy.

Hanna would come home everyday, damp and in a slightly bad mood from getting wet, to find Alex bent over the dining room table, typing away on his laptop. He had managed to get a sort of freelance job translating textbooks and other documents from Japanese to English. Alex thought it was boring, but it paid better than the bookstore ever did, so he did not complain about it too much, and Hanna did not either. After all, starving wasn't on Hanna's top-ten-things-to-try-at-least-once-before-he-died list.

Surrounded by Japanese reference books and dictionaries, Hanna always thought that Alex would perhaps not see him enter, or be so involved in his work that he wouldn't acknowledge him. But no matter what, Alex would stop and come to greet Hanna at the door with the warm hug and kiss combination that chased the redhead's negative feelings towards the weather far, far away. Lunch or dinner would always be ready—or almost ready—for him and they would share the meal curled up under the big blanket on the couch. It was nice and cozy during the rainy season and Hanna was happy to catch up on old episodes of Eureka while he caught up on twenty or so odd years of missed cuddling time.

That routine remained decently regular for a while, until one day in late April when it was broken.

Hanna had been schlepping books from one end of the store to the other, listening to the sound of rain pounding against the windows in a way that just made him want to take the biggest nap _of his life_ when he finally was given his lunch break. Slowly, Hanna yawned, stretching as he went into the break room to grab his lunch from the fridge. It was relatively empty that day—Toni was off, Veser had the late lunch, and Conrad worked the morning shift and had already gone home—and only two or three people were in the room, eating lunch quietly and zoning out to their iPods. Hanna ignored them and went to the fridge, stopping halfway there when he noticed someone sitting at his usual table: a face he hadn't seen there in a while.

"Alex? What're you doing here?" Hanna asked, thinking maybe his boyfriend had come to surprise him or something of the sort. But his cheerful prospects were drowned with a creeping dread when he saw Alex's expression up close. For one, he was wet, as if he had run out of the house without an umbrella and secondly, he was as pale as paper. Maybe it wasn't the paleness that set Hanna on edge, but the way Alex looked like he was _afraid_ of something. It prompted Hanna to immediately sit beside him and reach for his hands. They were cold and shaking slightly. Hanna had never seen Alex get this way before, so he squeezed his fingers around those frigid digits and asked hesitantly: "H-Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alex said, meeting Hanna's eyes after a moment. His irises were darker than usual, increasing Hanna's concern.

"You look really freaked out though..." Hanna replied uncertainly. "What's wrong?" Alex didn't say anything, just pulled one of his hands back from Hanna's in order to reach into his inside coat pocket. He procured a letter and handed it to Hanna, who took it. The envelope was thick and slightly damp. In the top left hand corner was a blue ribbon with the words** Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts in Portland**. Hanna stared at it for a minute and then looked up at Alex, confused.

"It came in the mail today..." Alex said, and rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes went off to the side. "I couldn't open it myself...and I...couldn't wait until you got home..."

"When did you apply?" Hanna asked, shoving his finger underneath the edge eagerly in order to find out the results.

"Two months ago," Alex replied, looking down. His ears were red. "After we...after Valentine's Day, I just went ahead..." Hanna stopped, staring at the mangled lip of the envelope.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hanna asked.

"I honestly forgot until today..." Alex said, glancing up at him. "I wasn't...well, I wasn't really myself when I filled out the application...I didn't think I'd ever get a reply and so I just...put it out of my mind..." The hand still holding Hanna's squeezed gently. "Are you mad at me?"

"What? No way! I'm happy you finally applied!" Hanna said with a wide grin, holding up the envelope so that he could sniff it over-dramatically. "And this smells like good news, so aren't you excited?" Alex looked at him like an injured dog that wanted to be put out of his misery. "Oh, c'mon. It can't be that bad!"

"Can you just...open it...?" Alex asked, putting his head into his hands like the nervous wreck he was. "And...don't tell me if it's bad..."

"Seeing as how the first word is _congratulations_, I'm going to go ahead and say this is an acceptance letter..." Hanna said. Alex's head shot up so quickly Hanna feared he might get whiplash.

"Wait? You're kidding right?" he asked.

"Nope, it says right here: 'Dear Mr. Harper. On behalf of the Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts, we would like to extend our congratulations on your acceptance to our institution...' Yeah, okay, so maybe the _first_ word isn't _congratulations_ but you get my drift," Hanna said and the look Alex gave him was a silent plea to not fuck around because he wanted to know what it said, for real. Hanna just smiled at him, throwing his arms around Alex's shoulders in the biggest hug he could manage. "But hey! You did it! I told you that you could!" Alex returned the embrace, pulling Hanna against him so quickly that he nearly lost his balance all together.

"I really...got in?" he asked, and his voice was so quiet that Hanna barely heard him.

"Of course you did," Hanna replied, and rested his cheek against Alex's wet hair. "You're too awesome for them _not_ to accept you." If anything, Alex squeezed him a bit tighter, making one of the smallest, most adorable sounds Hanna had ever heard. "Hey, be excited! You're in! Aren't you happy?"

"Of _course_ I'm happy..." Alex said, but his voice was still too quiet and he sniffed against Hanna's shoulder.

"You're not..._crying_ are you?" Hanna asked.

"N-No! I'm just...it's a lot to take in...right now..." Alex said, but when he pulled back after a moment, Hanna could see that his eyes looked a little too much like he was lying. Seeing him like that—slightly vulnerable in his insecurity about his success and the embarrassment for his few seconds of weakness—made Hanna love him more than ever before.

"You're cute," Hanna said, and kissed him. He didn't care if the few people in the room were watching or listening because Hanna was happy and wanted to show it. And it was worth it to see Alex smile like he'd won the lottery.

"That's my line," he replied, and Hanna was happy to see that he looked _right_ again without that paleness from before. His eyes had even lit up in the wake of that gesture.

"We can't share one?" Hanna asked, and gave Alex the _bitch, please_ look to indicate that yes, he could say it if he wanted to, because true facts were true facts.

"I guess we can," Alex said, and his shoulders shook under Hanna's arms with silent laughter.

"Or I can let you have it on one condition," Hanna replied.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but you have to promise."

"What is it?"

"You have to promise, that even when you're becoming this amazing chef who's going to own a million restaurants and make a gazillion dollars a year—"

{"Over-exaggeration of the century, that's safe to say," Alex said when Hanna took a small breath.}

"—that you'll still cook for me. Because seriously, a world without your pancakes is a very dark and awful place."

Alex went into a fit of mute laughter, but after a moment, composed himself enough to say:

"Of course I will."

"Awesome."

**pqpq**

Toni put in her two weeks notice at the beginning of May.

It was strange to think that by mid-month, Toni would be off gallivanting in Portland to film that new show. She was all grins and laughter as she caught Hanna up to speed with her living arrangements, the cast members she would be working with, as well as the plot. And the _connections_. She went on and on about her soon-to-be connections. Toni even promised that, when she became better friends with the writer of the show, that she would see if there would be any way to introduce Hanna.

"Maybe he could help you publish," Toni said and Hanna thought she was so cute to be considering his future that he didn't bother to tell her screenwriting and novels were in completely separate markets.

"That'd be great, thanks," Hanna replied, and put his box cutter down as he smiled at her.

"I'm going to miss you though, Hanna..." Toni said. She put the scanner gun down on the desk and leaned against it.

"I'm going to miss you too," Hanna answered, looking down at his shoes as he tried to push away that sadness he wanted to think was ridiculous. But it wasn't ridiculous. He was losing his best friend, or at least it felt that way. So, it was pretty hard to continue without sounding depressed. "It's going to be...really weird without you here...but I'm happy that you're going. I mean, living your dream? That's so awesome."

"You'll be living it one day, too, just you wait," Toni said and Hanna knew immediately how much he would miss her constant enthusiasm and support for _everything_.

"I hope so," Hanna said.

"Well you're looking at publishers, right?" Toni asked.

"Yeah..."

"That's a start! I had to look for auditions! It's like the same thing!"

"I guess so."

Toni came over and sat on the edge of one of the unopened boxes.

"Don't worry. We're still going to hang out all the time," Toni said, smiling at him. "I mean, think about it! We're always going up to Portland on the weekends because there's nothing to do in this shit town anyway! We'll see each other all the time!"

"Sure you can pencil us in?" Hanna asked. Toni took out her imaginary planner, made a face, and used an invisible pencil to scribble her intended words.

"Oh, just barely! But there you guys are: squeezed right in," Toni said, and before Hanna could mention it, Toni added: "And yes, that's what she said."

"Damn, you stole that one," Hanna mumbled.

"And rightfully so," Toni replied, grinning from ear to ear. Oh, yes. Hanna was going to miss Toni very much. "But anyway, how are things going? I've been talking about me so much these past few weeks...are you and Alex doing okay?"

"Yeah, we're doing great," Hanna answered, and proceeded to tell her about Alex's good fortune getting into the culinary institute.

"Hey! That's great!" Toni said.

"Yeah. He has to go in for an interview thing and then if they really like him, there's this sort of competition...I don't really understand it, but I guess they choose a bunch of people to go and cook something...and the ones who do the best get scholarships and stuff."

"Oh, he'll get that for sure. I've never tasted better yams anywhere," Toni said, and her eyes got a little glassy with longing as she reminisced about their past Thanksgiving Day feast.

"I think so too, so here's to hoping. And right now, he's trying not to get too nervous about it," Hanna said, and then smirked, "but he is. It's kind of cute."

"When's the interview?" Toni asked.

"Next Thursday. I wanted to go with him, but I'm working the late shift so..." Hanna replied, feeling bad that he couldn't be the supportive boyfriend that Alex had always been for him.

"I'd say I would trade with you, but I'm closing that night too..." Toni answered, looking guilty.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Hanna said, waving off her apology. They went back to work when one of the new managers stalked in the back to make sure they were doing their jobs. After her brown pony tail whipped around the corner, they stopped again and resumed their previous positions within the giant mound of boxes to unload.

"So everything else is going well then?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. We had a good talk after all that...er, drama, I guess," Hanna said. "So we're pretty solid now. We even have a Chia Pet."

"Aw, that's so gay," she cooed and Hanna laughed. "No, but really. I'm glad you guys talked about everything."

"Well, almost everything..." Hanna said, fiddling with the closed box cutter to keep himself distracted.

"Almost?" Toni repeated, crossing her arms with a displeased expression.

"N-No, I mean, that is, we talked about all the important stuff," Hanna said, waving his arms defensively. "I just..."

"Just what?" Toni asked, and there was nothing but infinite patience in her voice. Not having Toni with him almost everyday would be very hard, Hanna knew, especially when he needed to talk about something like _this_. It was something that he had been thinking about over the past few weeks especially, but maybe Hanna had been wondering about it all along and just finally _confronted_ the idea recently, he couldn't tell.

"I never said, you know...thatIlovehim," Hanna mumbled, but Toni caught it the first time.

"Oh, Hanna," Toni said, and came to sit next to him on the box. "Just because you didn't say 'I love you' then, doesn't mean you missed your chance. You can tell him any time you want and it'll be just as meaningful."

"I just...I'm sure I do love him and he loves me...it just feels so..." Hanna struggled until Toni supplied the word:

"Final?"

"Kind of..." Hanna admitted.

"Well you know, saying that doesn't mean you're committed forever. It just means you're committing deeper than before is all," Toni explained. "But remember, there's a difference between loving someone and being _in love_ with someone."

"Oh..." Hanna said, feeling lost. Without Toni there, who would he go to for advice? For fun jokes? For those breaks they weren't supposed to take, sitting upstairs in History, making fun of customers and old dead guys and poetry and fashion and _everything_?

"Hanna," Toni said.

"Yeah?" Hanna replied, feeling downright _sad_. Toni put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"You know I love you, right?"she asked and Hanna smiled.

"Yeah. And I love you, too," he said. It was then that he realized he had a different sort of love for Toni than the love he had for Alex. He loved Toni, yes, but he was _in love_ with Alex. Leave it to Toni to help things make perfect sense.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Toni replied and kissed his cheek.

Maybe it really was that easy after all.

**pqpq**

Toni had a farewell party that was all drunken debauchery and loud music. She had the gathering at her place—expressly forbidding Conrad and Worth to go _anywhere_ near the bathroom—and invited people from work as well as other actors that she knew in the area. Veser's band couldn't play live with the noise ordinance in the area, but they did blast some of their recorded stuff over the speakers for half the night. It was fun, but it felt like the end of an awesome era. Everyone was drifting apart and soon, who knew where they would all be? Would they all still be friends—or at least, whatever it was they were now—five years from now? Hanna hoped so, because it was hard for him to make friends or make a good enough impression on people to make them want to hang out with him repeatedly. He would miss everyone, even Veser's bad attitude, if they were to all suddenly break apart and go elsewhere...

Even still, he managed to have a good time that night.

The following week, Toni's last few shifts began winding down to her last day. That Thursday was her last close, so Hanna was kind of happy in an indescribable way that they were working together.

"Don't worry so much about it. She'll keep in touch and we'll see her all the time," Alex replied, after Hanna had tried to explain this to him. He was getting ready to drive to Portland for his interview at the college. Even though Hanna didn't have to go to work until that afternoon, he had gotten up to talk Alex's nerves down a bit while he got ready. The conversation eventually led to Toni and their futures which suddenly all looked too soon and kind of frightening.

"I hope so," Hanna mumbled, curling up under the blankets. It was raining outside and he didn't want to go to work in such bad weather.

"We'll bully her into hanging out with us if it comes down to it," Alex promised, straightening his tie in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

"We're going to have to if she gets too popular," Hanna said, watching as Alex fixed his collar. He had nicked himself shaving that morning, but Hanna could barely see the cut; he was too busy admiring the way Alex looked in business clothing.

"She won't forget about us, you'll see," Alex said, shutting off the light as he shrugged into a fitted blazer. "So what do you think? Do I look impressive?"

"I think so," Hanna said, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Like I can cook?" Alex asked.

"Um...maybe put a spatula in your pocket and then, yes," Hanna said and Alex laughed, coming to sit next to him on the bed.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, and kissed Hanna's forehead. It warmed him considerably in combination with the familiar smell of his cool aftershave.

"You'll be awesome and win all kinds of money," Hanna said helpfully as a means of encouragement.

"Let's hope so," Alex answered, smiling as he leaned in to kiss Hanna's lips. "I'll most likely be home before you, so I'll make dinner. How does spaghetti sound?"

"Amazing," Hanna replied, putting his arms around Alex's shoulders as he kissed him again. "Even more amazing if you're still wearing this outfit."

"Oh, really?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a suit fetish," Hanna said seriously.

"Now I'm going to think about that _all day_," he replied, resting his palm on Hanna's bare knee, smoothing the tips of his fingers along the sensitive skin there. "So do I at least get a preview?" Hanna twirled his finger around the end of Alex's tie as he looked up at his boyfriend teasingly.

"I would say yes, but you're going to be late if you don't get a move on..." Hanna said, quite conscious of what Alex's touch was doing to him, but resolved to remain from acting on his impulses. Alex looked a bit disappointed, but pulled back a bit.

"Fair enough," he said, adjusting his tie again as he stood up.

"When I get home..." Hanna began and it was nothing but seductive when he continued with: "I'll make it worth the wait."

"And in the meantime, I'll still be thinking about it all day," Alex said, buttoning the blazer with a smile. Hanna laughed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders as he settled back down to get in another hour's worth of sleep before work.

"Not too much, though! Good luck on your interview," Hanna said.

"Thanks," Alex replied, and went for the bedroom door.

"Hey," Hanna said, stopping Alex before he left. But when those amber eyes were on him, Hanna froze up. He knew he wanted to say _I love you_ and had been trying to think of a good way to say it, but couldn't think of one. And it didn't feel like the right time, with Alex about to walk out the door and no time for them to kind of just _be_ in love for a few minutes without interruption. No, Hanna thought, it wasn't the right time yet. He amended the awkward situation by adding: "Drive safe."

"Always do," he replied and then he was gone.

Hanna laid in bed without falling back asleep, listening to the rain and wondering why he felt like he missed out on something important.

**pqpq**

The last night shift with Toni was nothing spectacular.

Because of the rain, there were few customers that evening, so they got out light on register duty and pretty much ended up loitering up front and talking about nothing in particular. Veser sauntered over for a bit during this time and bitched about one thing or another before stalking back to the cafe. At about nine-thirty, they were released from their mandatory servitude and allowed to go home. Veser and Toni hopped into her old Toyota while Hanna drove the Sundance back to Alex's place. The rain was coming down in sheets by the time he got there and Hanna made a dash from the parking lot to the main entryway, only getting soaked to the bone in the process.

The lights were out when he arrived.

"Alex?" Hanna called when he came in, shaking water out of his hair and clothes. He flicked on the lights to find the place as he had left it. Nothing had been disturbed. There was no smell of dinner in the kitchen. The mail wasn't on the table like usual. "Alex?" Hanna tried again, removing his shoes and wet sweater before going into the bedroom. Alex wasn't there either; the bed was still unmade from earlier, when Hanna left and hadn't fixed it up nicely. Usually Alex did that. It made Hanna frown. Pushing back the curtain, Hanna peered down into the parking lot. Through the rain, he saw that the Subaru wasn't in its usual spot. Hanna wondered why he hadn't noticed it before on his way in. Had the interview gone late?

Hanna reached for his phone and dialed Alex. His cell rang a few times before going to voice mail, so Hanna tried a few more times until he gave up and left a message, all the while finding it strange that Alex wasn't answering his phone. Besides, what kind of interview ran this late into the night? Hanna swallowed a bad feeling he had creeping up on him and went into the kitchen. Maybe he would make dinner and surprise Alex when he came home...

And Hanna tried, really he did, but cooking was not his thing at all.

The spaghetti was hard and the sauce somehow burned and eventually, Hanna just gave up and ate a can of soup because it was simple enough to make without fucking up. Once he had it in front of him, though, Hanna couldn't eat. He was worried.

Really worried.

The worry nagged at him as he tried to get through one program or another on television. Hanna could only stomach a few bites of soup before losing all interest completely. Instead, he sat there on the edge of the couch with the television muted, holding his phone and listening for the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot or the light creak of footsteps on the landing. When he heard either of these noises, Hanna would dash to the window or to the door and think that maybe it was Alex coming home. But it wasn't and the worry began gnawing and gnawing, like an angry dog that wouldn't quit.

So Hanna tried to rationalize.

Alex was an adult. He wasn't a child. He was fine. He wasn't lost. A serial killer hadn't stolen him. The thought of Alex picking up some lonely hitchhiker entered his mind and Hanna panicked. Alex was too nice for his own good. What if he had picked up some crazy hitchhiker with a good story and a pick axe?

Hanna seriously considered calling the police at that point, but he didn't.

It was almost eleven when Hanna started pacing. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong, but _what_? He tried calling Alex again and again, but no answer. Frustrated, Hanna threw the phone onto the couch, dragging his fingers through his hair with calming breaths so he didn't rip it out by the roots. Something was wrong. He could _feel_ it.

At 11:01, Hanna's phone rang.

The ringer startled him and he ran straight into an end table in his rush to get to the cell. Ignoring the pain, Hanna flipped it open, nearly breaking the device in the process as he got out a panicked: "Alex? Alex, where are you?"

"Whoa, Hanna! Hanna! It's Conrad!"

"Conrad?" Hanna repeated, panting from the pain in his knee and the pent up anxiety in his chest. "Conrad, what...why..."

"Hanna, shut up," Conrad said, and it was only when Hanna quieted that he heard the thinness of Conrad's voice. "Listen to me. Are you sitting down?"

"What does that—why? What's going on?" Hanna asked.

"It's Alex," Conrad said, and the way he said it made Hanna grip the couch, his breaths coming short and sharp, like glass in his chest.

"Conrad, where is he? What happened...?" Hanna whispered, leaning over his knees as he fought the heat in his eyes because there was something _wrong_ and he could _feel_ it coming, the words that Conrad was going to say before he even said them.

"He was in a car accident. They rushed him to Providence Medical Center a few hours ago."

Hanna could barely breathe. The words _accident_ and the mention of a hospital had sent Hanna over the edge. Alex was hurt. That was all he could process. Alex was hurt and it was bad and Hanna wasn't there with him and he needed to _be there with him_.

"Hanna," Conrad said, loud and clear in his ear, as if he had been repeating himself for a while. "Hanna, listen to me. I'm coming to pick you up. I'm almost there."

"Conrad...Connie... I, fuck, I didn't...I was going to and I-I didn't, didn't fucking do it..." Hanna swore, sinking off the couch and onto the floor. He could still see Alex's smile and smell his aftershave and _taste_ him and now—

"What? What is it?" Conrad asked, and maybe he didn't really care, just wanted to keep Hanna on the line, but it didn't matter because Alex was in a hospital somewhere bleeding and maybe dying even though Hanna could still feel him there in the house, Alex's fingertips smoothing over his knee. Alex was just there. He was _just there_. Hanna could still hear him: the humming from the bathroom as he shaved and ran the water.

_Just there.  
_

"I didn't say it, and I-I was going to, but I didn't, and, Christ, Connie, Connie... I didn't tell him..." Hanna couldn't stop panting and crying, to the point where he was sobbing and digging his fingernails into the edge of the coffee table because he could still feel Alex there and see him standing at the door when Hanna made him stop to say, but never did say, _I love you_. Hanna slammed his palm against the table. "I didn't tell him I loved him! I didn't FUCKING TELL HIM!"

"You will, Hanna," Conrad said, like the voice of reason in his ear. Like the voice taking the stairs outside two at a time. Like the voice behind the fist that pounded on the door. "Now stop fucking shouting and open the damned door so we can get the fuck out of here."

On numb feet, Hanna did as he was told, letting the other man inside. Conrad, pale as alabaster and soaked from head to toe, pulled a coat over Hanna's shoulders and forced him to put on shoes before dragging him outside. It was still raining, Hanna realized. The car was still on when Hanna was shoved into the passenger seat. Conrad swerved out of the parking lot and sped towards the highway at top speed. But it didn't feel fast enough, at least to Hanna, who hadn't said _I love you_ to the person who meant the most to him in the entire world. He didn't say it because there was that hesitation; the hesitation over the distinction between loving someone and being _in love_ with someone. And maybe deep down, he hadn't realized he had been afraid of saying the words in fear that he did not mean them. He knew he loved Alex. And he had been pretty sure he was truly _in love_ with Alex. But it wasn't until that moment when he was faced with possibility of Alex never hearing him _say that_, that Hanna knew for certain. In fact, he suddenly knew that he had known all along, since the first time he'd laid eyes on Alexander Harper.

He was, without a doubt, most definitely, undeniably, irrevocably in love.

And it was time to prove it.

**pqpq**


	14. Therapy

A/N: Yes, the last chapter was quite mean of me, wasn't it? Someone asked me if I enjoyed being able to make the entire fandom cry and I feel bad for admitting that I kind of do. It's really an awesome accomplishment. Maybe I should put it on my resume.

**pqpq**

Hanna felt numb.

His entire body was just something that took up space and matter in time, feeling heavy and unmovable in the darkness of Conrad's Escort as it raced through the streets of their town towards the interstate highway. There was no music, just the crashing sound of rain pounding on the windshield and the tires spinning rapidly over the wet pavement. Hanna should have been afraid of Conrad losing control of the vehicle and swerving into the next lane of traffic, killing the both of them in a fiery wreck, but he wasn't. All Hanna was thinking about was that morning with Alex looking nervously excited about his interview and smelling so _good_ and standing at the door insisting that yes, he would drive safe because he _always did_.

"Hanna," Conrad said through the memory, pulling Hanna back to the horrible reality of the situation all too quickly for his liking. He had been slipping away so quickly into despair that Hanna hadn't noticed he was still crying. When he did, Hanna didn't bother to wipe the tears away. "Pull yourself together for fuck's sake."

"Yeah…" Hanna replied, nodding unnecessarily over and over again as he blinked and tried not to cry anymore. It was hard when it felt like someone had dropped a bag of stones in his chest, but somehow he managed to stop. That left Hanna with itchy eyes and an aching chest that made it hard to breathe without wanting to just _sob_. There were too many images in his head of Alex. The thought of the worst-case scenario left Hanna's vision darkening around the edges. He gripped at the console, as if it would keep from falling apart completely.

"Hanna, seriously," Conrad said, with more sternness than before. When Hanna turned his head to look at the other man, he could see Conrad's features lit only by the oncoming headlights, throwing shadows on his face. There weren't enough to disguise the tenseness of his jaw and the white-knuckled grip he had on the wheel. Feeling strangely detached at that moment, he wondered if Conrad was as blindsided by what had happened as Hanna.

"Conrad," Hanna said, after the blackness had receded from his vision, leaving nothing but that weight in his chest that felt like the oppression of a lonely eternity. He swallowed painfully before continuing: "How…did you…?" Hanna couldn't use the words he had intended, unable to say Alex's name out loud combined with the word _accident_ because all he could think about was blood and death and not saying _I love you_ like he should have.

"Worth called me," Conrad replied.

"Worth?" Hanna repeated, confused and his mouth as dry as paper.

"He works nights at Providence," Conrad answered. It was almost like a normal conversation, except for the fact that Hanna couldn't muster up the humor to crack a joke about Worth being a male nurse or some other seemingly-funny equivalent.

"Oh," Hanna said, because he felt like there was nothing else to say.

"He called about a half-hour ago…when they transferred Alex to his floor," Conrad added, and his voice had gone very quiet as he said those words. "He…knew it was Alex when he saw him come in…so Worth called me and told me to come get you."

"Oh," Hanna said again, trying to breathe evenly as the blackness started coming back to his vision. For Worth to truly give a shit about someone meant it was bad. To call Conrad and tell him to go get Hanna in the middle of the night told him more than he wanted to know. It was _really_ bad. That was the only reason Hanna could fathom, his mind going immediately to the darkest of places. "Worth…he works…on what floor?" Hanna asked, because he had to know. Even though it was going to hurt, he had to _know_.

Conrad hesitated a moment before replying:

"The intensive care unit."

**pqpq**

When Hanna's parents had gotten into their accident, his father had died on impact. His mother, however, lived for two days in ICU before passing away. Hanna could remember bits and pieces of that time, which mostly consisted of being afraid and crying, not understanding the situation in its entirety. His mother hadn't looked like his mother with all the tubes and wires covering her body, but he knew that it had been her, because no one had auburn hair like she had. If he let himself think about those days, Hanna could pull up sensory perceptions of smell and sound and even touch. He had been holding her hand when she died.

The ICU was not a place Hanna wanted to go again, but he found himself there once more, facing another nightmare from which he could only hope he would wake.

There were blue and red lights flashing when they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Hanna could see the color refracting off the sheets of rain that continued to relentlessly pour down, soaking into his hair and shoes completely. The rest of him stayed dry and it was only when they were inside that Hanna realized why: in the rush to leave before, Conrad had pulled Alex's coat off the rack instead of Hanna's. It was comforting in a way to be wearing a jacket too-big for him with sleeves so long they covered up his hands. At least no one could see him shaking as they walked through the sterile lobby. When he turned his cheek into the collar, Hanna breathed in Alex's familiar scent to try and calm himself down; to drown out the smell of cleaner and death and illness.

Conrad led him through long white hallways and rooms crowded with the sick and injured. He did this with a hand on Hanna's shoulder, strong enough to keep him from anchoring himself in place, consumed with thoughts about loving and losing and dying.

"Hanna," Conrad said, when they were in the elevator. The redhead could only give the tiniest of nods to show he was listening because his vocal chords had completely given up on him. His eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing as Conrad fumbled with his words. "It's…going to be okay…" The other man even tried giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze to emphasize his point. But the fact that Conrad was being uncharacteristically kind and Worth of all people had felt concerned enough to _call_ made Hanna's fears triple in intensity.

People only acted that way when someone was going to die.

Hanna fought to breathe, nodding again as the doors opened to the critical care unit. It was still and quiet, staffed by nurses with impartial expressions and the fearful, hopeful glances from those waiting to hear about the fate of their loved ones trapped in glass rooms. Hanna could taste the pity and misery and the lingering warmth of a kiss that he couldn't live without. It renewed his purpose for being there and Hanna walked out of the elevator of his own volition, walking with a jerking, frantic gait towards the nurses' desk. The woman sitting there looked up when Hanna stopped there, gripping at the edge of the high counter like it was the only thing keeping him in the world at that moment.

"Alex Harper," he said, unnaturally clear and devoid of the panic Hanna could feel rising inside.

"Just a moment," she replied, checked something on the computer—for what had to be the longest minute in the entire universe—before looking back up at him. "Mr. Harper is in room 720. You may visit with him for a few minutes before visiting hours are over." Hanna could only nod dumbly, repeating the numbers mutely to himself as the nurse pointed him in the right direction. Conrad followed, but Hanna barely noticed his presence, too busy looking at every placard on the wall as he mentally compared it to the numbers the nurse had given him.

And then, he found it.

Room 720 looked like all the others Hanna had passed, but with one notable exception: Alex was in there. _His_ Alex was in there. He was hooked up to so many machines and covered in so many tubes that Hanna was reminded of his mother, who had died looking like that, and that just made him feel sick with too much fear and regret. Hanna swayed a bit, but Conrad kept him upright, taking hold of his shoulders and pushing him into the nearest chair before his knees could give out beneath him.

Once sitting down, Hanna was able to digest everything in front of him and felt as if someone had slapped him in the face with a burlap sack full of bricks.

Hanna focused on breathing, taking in things one at a time to not overwhelm his already overwhelmed self. The first thing he noticed was that Alex's head had been bandaged completely and that the left side of his face was hidden beneath layers and layers of gauze padding. The majority of the injury seemed to be there, but then Hanna started doubting that assumption as he took in the rest of Alex's body: the wrapped and splinted left wrist, the brace strapped around his middle, the machine that was helping him _breathe_.

"Oh…fucking _God_…" Hanna mumbled, pulling his chair closer as he reached for Alex's right hand. With all the IVs and tape and tubes there, Alex's hand felt so _small_ and fragile and cold in Hanna's shaking palms. That wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.

From somewhere far away, Hanna felt Conrad rubbing his back.

Hanna moved away from it—from him—leaning over Alex's hand and pressing his cheek gently against the bit of chilled skin, being mindful of the bruises already forming from the needles forcing fluids into his veins. Conrad at least got enough of the message to not touch Hanna and backed away to give him space. Someone came into the room shortly after and began talking with Conrad, but their conversation was beyond Hanna's comprehension at that point. All he could do was sit there, clutching at Alex's pale hand, listening to the steady hum of the monitors and the harsh, mechanical sound of the machine pumping oxygen. Hanna couldn't think or cry or do anything at all for a stretch of time that seemed infinite as much as it seemed to last only seconds.

A hand fell on his shoulder.

"C'mon, ya," said the owner of the hand. A large, flat palm. Skeletal fingers that smelled like tobacco. It took a moment fumbling through the mess of Hanna's memory to realize that it was Worth.

"No," Hanna said dully, shaking his head. "I'm staying here."

"Yer gonna come back to my place. Eat somethin'," Worth replied. His voice was still rough as gravel, but there was something almost _kind_ beneath it. Because of that, Hanna felt the panic beginning to surge inside of him. He recalled how nice the doctors had been to him as he sat, day and night, by his mother's side with no one to take him home and no one but the cold lady from children services, waiting to take him away to that awful place forever. He had been too young to understand then, but Hanna knew now. That kindness wasn't comforting or good or a relief. It made Hanna want to scream and cry and make so much racket that Alex woke up and told him to shut up and that he was going to be alright.

"No," Hanna said again, shaking his head slowly, brushing his cheek over the scabbed cuts on Alex's knuckles. There was barely any breath in his body as Hanna forced out a quiet, but determined: "I…I'm staying…"

"Don't be a brat," Worth replied, and the niceness disappeared entirely from his voice. The hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, where Worth gripped him with fingers made of frigid bone. "Visitin' hours're over. Get up, 'er else I'm gettin' ya up." The threat would have frightened Hanna had he not been so detached from everything at that moment. All he knew was that he couldn't leave Alex like this; not when Hanna knew he needed to be there with him.

"Please…let me stay…" Hanna whispered, trying for a different tact; anything that would be able to keep him there in that uncomfortable chair in the too-cold room by Alex's side. He moved his thumb over the back of Alex's hand, so focused on the feeling of his skin and calluses and everything else seemingly insignificant that truly _wasn't_, that Hanna missed whatever Conrad said. Worth lessened his grip and moved away.

"Ten minutes," Worth said. Hanna heard his aggravated footsteps exit the room.

"I'll…be outside…" Conrad added, to either give Hanna privacy or just to escape the awkwardness that the situation had caused. Without another word, Conrad left, closing the door softly behind him, leaving Hanna and Alex alone. After a moment, Hanna forced himself to lift his head, looking at the damage done to the person he loved more than anything and everything. It was so gruesome and awful that Hanna couldn't blink or breathe, just watch, hoping beyond hoping that he would see Alex's eyelashes flutter slightly, like they would do before he woke in the mornings. Hanna had watched him that same way earlier in the day, that morning when the alarm went off and woke him up. Alex, always slow to rise, had hit the snooze button out of instinct. Even though it had been so early and Hanna didn't have to be to work until the afternoon, he stayed awake to watch Alex for those few moments of complete vulnerability. He couldn't help it. There was something amazing about lying in bed with someone and watching them slowly come into the world.

Hanna hoped it wouldn't be the last time he experienced that.

"Alex…" Hanna said and it was almost immediate that his eyes felt hot and painful behind his glasses. Ignoring this sensation, Hanna moved his free hand towards Alex's cheek, pulling back when he realized that there was no amount of skin he could touch that wouldn't cause pain. The bruises were already swelling an angry black and blue. There was a cut through his eyebrow held together with three butterfly stitches. His eyelashes weren't moving at all, because he was too far away to even dream.

Too far away to hear Hanna's voice.

"I love you."

**pqpq**

It was past two in the morning when Hanna found himself on the sagging couch in front of an ancient television set in Worth's living room. There was some show on with too-pretty people and possibly half-witty comments, but the sound was so low that Hanna couldn't hear it. It wasn't as if he could follow it anyway, or want to for that matter. He barely even recognized that Conrad was beside him or that Worth was smoking one cigarette after another in the kitchen. Worth also had a roommate, but Hanna didn't care enough at that moment to acknowledge him. Hanna could only sit there in front of the muted television set with his hands curled up into the too-big sleeves of Alex's coat, trying to smell his aftershave over the tobacco and booze. But Hanna couldn't and even when he searched his mind, he couldn't remember the smell. He could only bring up the drudging recollection of hospital rot and the cold, latex scent of Alex's skin. It made Hanna feel like he was being kept together with bits of thread that were slowly snapping and breaking as everything began oozing over and breaking through the weak constraints of sanity.

It was only when a plate of eggs and hash browns was set down in front of him that Hanna lost it entirely.

Everything broke, drowning Hanna in a deep, thick vat of helplessness. He could only sit there and cry, shaking and sobbing, gasping for air for what felt like hours. Someone was holding onto him, rubbing his back. It was only when Hanna stopped crying that he realized it was Conrad, looking scared and awkward and not quite sure what to do. Worth's roommate, a dark-haired man with warm, chocolate eyes, made him breathe into a paper bag for a good five minutes until Hanna calmed down enough to apologize. He was exhausted and his eyes felt like they were bleeding and as if his face had puffed up three times its normal size, but he meant it when he said he was sorry.

"It's alright," said the man, and he was smiling in a way that reminded Hanna of Alex, so the redhead looked down. The plate of breakfast food sat there, untouched and cold. It looked just like Alex prepared it and the sight of it made Hanna's stomach twist and turn unpleasantly.

"I didn't mean to…freak out…I'm sorry…" Hanna replied, feeling hollow and full of splinters now that everything inside had been pushed out so quickly.

"It's alright," the man said again.

"Th' kid's smart. Knew ya were a bad cook before he ate anythin'," Worth said, moving the plate away from Hanna. He shoved it at the man. "Get ridda tha' before 'e pukes ever'where, Lamont." The roommate took the plate, but didn't retort with anything snide, and began eating it. Hanna watched him for a moment until Worth forcefully turned his head with fingers of iron. He pushed Hanna's glasses up, flashing a light into his eyes for a few bright seconds. Then his glasses fell back onto the bridge of his nose and Hanna watched disinterestedly as Worth took his pulse and blood pressure. If it had been any other time, Hanna might have been amazed that a man who delivered milk was so knowledgeable about medicine, but it wasn't any other time, and everything was just standing in the way of him being with Alex at that moment.

"Drink this."

Hanna blinked, coming back to reality to realize that Worth was shoving a cup at him. Taking it, Hanna drank obediently, not registering the bitter, alcoholic taste until a few seconds after he swallowed. Before he could put it down, Worth forced it back into his hands. "I ain't gonna babysit ya," he said disapprovingly, and so Hanna finished the vile concoction without any other choice present to him. The drink warmed him considerably, taking away the harshness he felt in his body, allowing Hanna to focus on more than his inward pain, like the apartment and the people in it. Lamont was gone, probably in bed, because the clock on the wall said 3:38. Beside him, Conrad was dozing on the arm of the sofa.

"Thanks," Hanna said, though it sounded more like a croak than anything from all the crying he had been doing.

"Yeah," was all Worth said, lighting another cigarette. Hanna had never been alone with Worth before, so it felt kind of awkward to sit there and watch him smoke while Conrad was right there, but not conscious. Instead of looking at the other man, Hanna let his gaze drop from those intensely dark, ringed eyes to the long, pale fingered hands holding onto the pack of Pall Malls and the crap lighter with barely any fluid in it. "Want one?" Worth asked, pulling a cigarette out of the crushed paper, which he offered to Hanna.

"Sure," Hanna said, taking it. He knew enough from college how to light one, but smoking was more difficult than he recalled. At first, he coughed and gagged, but after that passed, Hanna actually enjoyed it. The nicotine and whatever had been in the drink made him feel calm and warm and buzzed. He was separating himself from everything, but in a better way, it felt like. It was more pleasant than before. Less painful, almost. "Thanks."

"Yeah," Worth said again, took a long drag, and flicked the ashes into a tray on the coffee table. "Ya know, Alex is gonna be alrigh'." Hanna looked up at him, not believing that Worth of all people was attempting to comfort him. But when he met the other man's eyes, he didn't see the sort-of-friend-who-was-fucking-his-other-sort-of-friend. He saw a _doctor_ telling him that it would be alright, and not in the half-assed hopeful way some doctors did. It was Worth telling him, as a medical professional, that he was almost one hundred percent guaranteeing that Alex would be fine.

"Yeah?" Hanna asked, hope leaking into his tone as if from a broken sieve.

"Yeah," Worth said. "Bump on th' head an' th' ribs're th' worst o'it."

"But…aren't…head injuries the worst…kind?" Hanna asked, biting his lip. His mother had died from hemorrhaging in her brain. What if Alex met a similar fate?

"They're when th' patient don't wake up," Worth answered, taking another drag from the butt of his cigarette before putting it out. "Alex was awake when they brough'im up."

"He was?" Hanna asked, and damn if he wasn't on the edge of the couch, practically throttling Worth to tell him more than that.

"O'course," Worth replied, fiddling with the lighter, as if debating if he wanted another cigarette or not. Eventually he decided to have one, and lit it with an expert flip of his wrist. "I gave 'im sedative ta 'elp 'im sleep."

"Really?" Hanna asked, knee bouncing with nerves as he took in the information. "Then…then why was he brought to ICU? If he was awake and…" Hanna couldn't say _okay_ because Alex wasn't, but being awake made him more okay than before.

"BP was low," Worth replied, and then when Hanna looked at him for more than that, Worth continued begrudgingly, gruff voice listing off everything precisely: "'e wasn't gettin' enough oxygen, showin' signs o' trauma, so they brough'im up ta us. Usually, folks in accidents an' such're sent up ta us fer th' nigh' fer observation. Hospital protocol."

"So…he really is going to be alright…" Hanna said, though still looked to Worth to assure him of that fact.

"Yeah. 'e's gonna feel like shit fer a while, but 'e's gonna be alrigh'," Worth said. Hanna wrung his hands, hopeful and relieved, praying it wasn't a lie, but accepting it because he just _had_ to believe it.

"Thank you…" Hanna replied, breathing out a sigh of relief. Beside him, Conrad made a small sound in his sleep, shifting uncomfortably in his upright position.

"Yeah," Worth said, pocketing his cigarettes and lighter as he stood up from his spot on the leaning coffee table. "Now, it's time ta get ta bed. C'mon, Peaches." He nudged Conrad, who started awake, but blinked sleepily, blearily from behind his glasses.

"Whaaaat?" Conrad groaned as Worth pulled him up off the couch by his wrists. The dark haired man stumbled a bit as he was forced to stand, leaning against Worth as he was led towards one of the far doors, which must have been the bedroom. Hanna watched them go, removing his shoes before pulling his feet up on the couch. He didn't take off Alex's jacket, wrapping himself in its warmth with his mouth tasting like bitter ash.

"'e's such a baby," came Worth's voice as he returned the living room.

"Connie's that way all the time," Hanna replied, sniffing into the collar of Alex's coat as he clutched his knees beneath it. He was feeling better, but that still did not ease his anxiety to get back to the hospital first thing in the morning to make sure Alex was alright. Something soft landed on his feet. When Hanna looked up, he saw a tattered blanket and old pillow at the end of the sofa.

"I noticed," Worth said and made to return to the bedroom.

"Hey, Worth," Hanna said, and he stopped.

"Wha'izzit?" he asked, turning around when Hanna didn't say anything immediately.

"Um, thanks for, you know, calling him. Getting me up here tonight….um, letting us stay here, everything…" Hanna said.

"Yeah," Worth replied, because apparently that was how he answered every phrase of gratitude. Before he could leave the room, Hanna added:

"Um, and I'm sorry…for…the way I've been acting…I'm just…" Hanna stopped, put his head into his hands as he tried to get a grip on himself. "I'm just…really…"

"Yeah, I know," Worth said. There was something about his calm, leveled voice and the washed out light of the television that made him seem harder than ever before. His eyes looked deeper, darker, and Hanna knew then that Worth really did _know_. Was it working in the ICU that had given him this knowledge, or had Worth sat by someone's bedside too? "It's natural ta act tha' way."

"Oh," Hanna said, and before he could stop himself, asked: "So…if Conrad—" He stopped short at the look Worth gave him. It was darker than before, as if someone perched on the precipice of complete insanity.

"Ya won't want ta see me on tha' day," Worth replied, so steely that Hanna felt like it physically could cut him. He stayed silent after that, listening as Worth walked down the hall and into the bedroom, where he closed the door quietly behind him. Hanna meanwhile, pulled the blanket over his body and stared at the high ceiling of the apartment. Eyes aching, Hanna removed his glasses and rubbed at his lids. He could still see Alex lying there in that hospital bed; could still feel the icy chill when Worth's dark, burning gaze landed upon him. And Hanna knew he had to sleep, but had a feeling nightmares would chase him all night. He wished he wasn't right about those sorts of things.

They began howling even before he was completely asleep.

**pqpq**

Hanna felt like he was drowning in rain all night.

His dreams were all about rain and crashes and blood. They would start out normally, like he and Alex would be somewhere and it would be raining, but it was alright because they were doing something silly and normal together, like walking home from the grocery store or the Laundromat. And then there would be a car or a truck or a motorcycle that lost control and Alex would always push Hanna out of the way just in time. But then Alex would be there and their groceries or clothes would be strewn about, getting soaked and the umbrella was gone, blowing down the street while Alex bled and bled onto the pavement. The red moved in streaks and swirls and wouldn't cease flowing, no matter how hard Hanna tried to make it _stop_. He couldn't stop crying because he could _feel_ Alex slipping away through his fingers. And he begged and he sobbed and cried out pleas for him to _live_ because he couldn't _die_, he just _couldn't_, not when Hanna needed and loved and couldn't live a day without him.

It was only when someone physically woke him that Hanna escaped his dreams. He felt more exhausted than when he had laid down, but at least there wasn't any blood on his hands, so Hanna took it.

"Hey, Hanna." The same person shook his shoulder again. "Hanna, c'mon and wake up."

"Lamont…?" Hanna rasped out, his mouth dry, like he'd been eating chalk in his sleep.

"Yeah," he said, and when Hanna pulled on his glasses, he saw the other man leaning over him, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry for waking you, but you've been…having nightmares…"

"Oh…" Hanna groaned, sitting up as he rubbed his throat. His face felt hot and the pillow was damp beneath his fingers. "Sorry," Hanna added as an afterthought, realizing he must have been sobbing loudly to have Lamont come and wake him.

"It's alright," he said, and the gentle way he said it made Hanna feel like it was okay. "Well, I just got off my first shift. Do you want me to drive you over to the hospital?"

"Uhm, please? Would you really?" Hanna asked, because Christ if he wasn't desperate at this point.

"Sure," Lamont said. He straightened up a bit and pointed to a small pile on the coffee table. "I got you some fresh clothes. They might be kind of big, but they're clean." Hanna nodded as Lamont added: "If you want to take a quick shower too, we just got the hot water fixed."

"Okay," Hanna said and took the offer. He was surprised to find that the bathroom wasn't as grungy as he would have thought—being Worth's apartment and all—but definitely not as clean as Alex's place. Hanna stood under the scalding water for the longest time, thinking about Alex's apartment and their life and the Chia Pet on the windowsill and the laundry they hadn't gotten to yet. Alex's coffee cup had still been in the sink when he had left that morning. Hanna had forgotten to make the bed, just as he had forgotten to sort their laundry the night before. Just the thought of those small, seemingly meaningless things made Hanna realize: it was their place and he couldn't return to _their_ place without Alex. He wouldn't be able to step through the door alone, into the house that held all of their things and their life together.

He couldn't.

With the weight of this on his shoulders and the feeling of the water beginning to turn cold, Hanna figured he had to do something else to move forward. He had to take it moment by moment, because the thought of all those _what if_s in the future were too hard to bear. It went from memory: the routine of washing his hair and then rinsing, bathing, drying off. He went on autopilot as he used the new toothbrush on top of the pile of clothes; towel dried his hair, pulled on the too-baggy clothes that smelled of a foreign fabric softener. Then Hanna took a big breath and went out to face the world.

Step by step.

Lamont made him eat some toast. It tasted like sand, but Hanna knew he had to do it or else Lamont wouldn't give him a ride. He consumed it as fast as he could, pulling on Alex's coat as Lamont lead him out of the apartment and to the car. It was raining, but Hanna knew he was awake and didn't fear the nightmares.

He feared reality instead.

"Where's Worth?" Hanna asked, to distract himself from what was happening. The parking garage was cold and cavernous. Hollow, almost, and Hanna felt the need to fill it with something. Substance, conversation. He was trying.

"Working," Lamont said, as they got into the car.

"At the hospital?" Hanna asked. The word felt heavy on his tongue.

"Delivering," Lamont replied, checked his watch, then his mirrors before continuing: "He drives all morning and usually gets home around noon or so. Then he sleeps until eight, gets up and goes to work at the hospital at nine."

"Oh," Hanna said, rubbing at his eyes as the car began moving out of the garage. "Why does he have two jobs? I mean, doesn't the hospital pay well?"

"Yes, it does, but there was a rough patch for a while when the hospital began cutting hours, so he picked up the job to make some extra cash," Lamont said, and shrugged. "He was supposed to quit months ago, but he hasn't yet."

Hanna wondered if it had anything to do with Conrad, but couldn't muster up the energy to care enough.

"Oh," Hanna said again, staring out the window for the rest of the ride. Breathing. Blinking. Trying not to fall apart. It was hard because it was raining and he wished it wasn't because it was hard enough going to a hospital when it wasn't raining. So the rain just made everything worse and it made him wish that everyone walking down the streets wasn't carrying a black umbrella, because that was even more depressing. He also wished that Death Cab for Cutie wasn't wallowing out their usual moody lyrics quietly through the speakers on 104.4. Lamont tuned the radio to a different station—probably after realizing that _I Will Follow You Into The Dark_ was not the best choice of music at the moment—and put on something bouncy. It felt wrong with the rain and the black umbrellas and the looming building up ahead, where Alex was lying in a bed covered in tubes and wire. But Worth said he would be okay and maybe that gave Hanna enough strength to keep breathing as Lamont pulled up right outside of the outpatient door. They sat there for a moment as the hazard lights cast a blinking amber hue in the downpour; Lamont didn't turn off the car. The windshield wipers went back and forth and back and forth for a few minutes before Lamont tried an awkward, yet well intended:

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, thanks…" Hanna said as he nodded. "I'm alright."

"Okay... I'll send Conrad over when he gets back from work?" Lamont replied, though it sounded like more of a question. Hanna had completely forgotten about his job, but hoped that Conrad would have enough sense to let Ples know what had happened. Mr. Tibenoch would take care of things while he was away, Hanna knew he would.

"Sure," Hanna said. With a last, terse nod, stepped out of the car and hurried to the main door. After shaking rain out of his hair and off Alex's jacket, Hanna took the elevator up to the correct floor. It took him a long time to find the critical care unit from the other end of the building, but eventually, Hanna arrived. The ICU looked more awful than it did in the dark; the weak afternoon light through the rain clouds brought out the tones upon tones of gray and puce and other dull shades. There were no plants or bright colors or vibrant vending machines, just a feeling of stillness tainted by tears and dust and death. It was suffocating and quiet, pushing in from all sides with such force that the redhead found himself drained of all will completely. Hanna could only stand there for a moment and take it all in, all while trying to remember that he was supposed to be breathing and walking instead of standing there, looking as lost as he felt inside.

After a moment of collecting himself, Hanna began walking towards room 720.

"Excuse me, sir. Where are you going?"

A nurse blocked his path. She had a stethoscope and a clipboard and a name tag, so she had to be someone important. Or at least someone who knew what they were doing.

"Um, hi..." he said, not really knowing how to start, because it wasn't the same nurse from the previous day, so Hanna wasn't sure if she would be as nice. "Um...I was here last night...to see Alex Harper? Can I go in and see him now?"

"The next visiting hour isn't for another forty minutes," the nurse said and she didn't sound mean, though Hanna still felt wounded by her words. Forty minutes? Forty minutes of waiting out _there_?

"I'm sorry?" Hanna replied, shaking his head as if hadn't heard her correctly. Her name was Melodie and she was actually kind of nice as she led Hanna towards a waiting room and explained hospital protocol. Apparently there were certain times for visiting patients in ICU; every three hours, one person was permitted to visit with the patient for one hour. Another three hours later, they were permitted to go in and visit again. Hanna thought the system was stupid and cruel and he wanted to shout and cry about it, because Alex was only a few doors away, needing him. And instead of being with him, Hanna was banished to a badly-lit room with an ancient television and yellowed magazines. There were other people inside, huddled together in the neutral colored chairs. Their faces were drawn and sad, pinched around the edges in silent pain. No one was watching the TV or reading. Hanna joined them in their silence, staring at his shoes as he tried his hardest to not watch the clock. Watching clocks just made things go slower.

Forty minutes dragged on for hours it seemed, before a few people in the room stood up and made for the door. Hanna got up too, forcing his stiff legs to follow after these weathered veterans. There was a clipboard that they had to sign and mark with the time, so Hanna did that as quickly as humanly possible before making a beeline for room 720. As much as he dreaded walking into that room, Hanna knew that waiting was a hundred times worse.

Someone had cracked the blinds. The natural sunlight, although weak through the light rain, chased away the harshness of the florescent lights. It didn't make Alex look any better, though, and it was with only heaviness that Hanna went to sit beside him in the same uncomfortable chair from the previous night. The only consolation was that the breathing machine was gone. But even that wasn't as much as a relief as Hanna would have liked, because the bandages and bruises and cuts still remained in abundance. When he moved his hand around Alex's, Hanna once again found himself struck by how small and _weak_ he seemed. It took breathing and repeating Worth's assurances to keep Hanna from breaking down right there. He managed not to, held Alex's hand and watched him intently, hopefully, as the hour passed in silence.

He didn't wake up.

When a nurse came in to take him away at the end of the visiting time, Hanna wanted to lash out at her. Surely she could see that Hanna needed to stay there, but she took him away anyway for a nothing less than excruciating three hours. Hanna wanted to rip his own skin off in that waiting room because every second he couldn't see Alex, his mind wandered to horrible possibilities…Even though Alex was fine and Worth said he would be alright, it didn't keep Hanna's thoughts from turning dark. These horrific imaginings made Hanna get up and pace up and down the hallway. After a while, he broke down and fished some change out of his pocket to get something to eat from the sad-looking in the corner vending machine. Tucked into a pale alcove, Hanna forced himself to eat a stale bear claw and tried not to choke on it because he was close to tears and he felt so stupid, but couldn't help it.

At least he had gotten a grip on himself by the time the next visiting hour came around.

The second visitation was much like the first, where all Hanna could do was sit and hold Alex's hand. About halfway through the hour—when the silence and the hum of machinery became too much—Hanna started talking to Alex. It was about stupid, nonsensical things: their apartment, the Chia Pet, the laundry they still had to do. He brought up things he could remember from Toni's last day at work, about what was on television the other night. Hanna even apologized for making a mess of the kitchen, because he had tried to make spaghetti, really he had, but it had gone to shit and he couldn't help it… And when Alex didn't wake up to tell him it was alright, Hanna didn't know what to do or how to feel. All he knew was that he was in love with Alex and the only thing that mattered was telling him this, over and over and over again because ho could Hanna have fucked up so badly and _not_ have said it before? It just made things more painful when the nurse came around a second time and asked him to leave, because Hanna didn't want to release Alex's hand or stop talking about stupid things or not be able to lean over and kiss him gently, whispering that he loved him.

It was nearly impossible to leave him that second time, because Hanna thought for sure he would die if he had to spend another three hours away from Alex's side.

The nurse from earlier, Melodie, found him an hour later, wandering up and down the hallways by the waiting room like a ghost and made him sit down and told him to wait. But the moment she was out of sight, Hanna went back to pacing for a little while until he couldn't stand up anymore and just tucked himself into that little space between the wall and the vending machine and sat there, staring at his knees. Sneakers and scrubs walked by a few times, but no one stopped for a long time. Then:

"Get up."

Melodie had come back and she was angry. She forced him to stand up, nearly knocking his head against the side of the vending machine as she did so. He then had no choice but to follow her brown ponytail down the hall and into a small room that Hanna had never visited. There was a bed and a chair. She made him sit on the empty bed and forced a cup of hot coffee into his hands.

"Drink," she said. And Hanna obeyed her, taking the bitter drink while trying not to think about the way Alex made coffee. It would just make things worse. "Eat," Melodie said, after he had drained the cup. It was a plastic bowl full of something yellow and green. Hanna didn't register the taste. Probably cafeteria food, but he wasn't going to refuse. When he was done, she sternly made him drink a few cups of water.

"Thanks," Hanna said, after she was done bullying him around.

"Luce told me to keep an eye on you," she replied. It took Hanna a minute to figure out who she was talking about.

"Worth?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah," she said, and maybe she was a little prettier when her mouth wasn't set so meanly. "He said he didn't want to have to get you out of the psych ward."

"Great…" Hanna sighed. "I'm crazy now."

"He wanted to make sure you weren't too hard on yourself," said Melodie. And yes, she definitely looked a lot nicer when she wasn't scowling. "And that you ate something, because you probably didn't sleep last night." It bothered Hanna a little to know that Worth understood him so well.

"Oh," Hanna said, defaulting to his single monosyllable with a lack of anything better to say.

"The guy you're here to see, the one from the car accident…" she began, and Hanna did everything he could not to flinch at her words, his fingers clenching at the sleeves of Alex's jacket. "Worth said he's your boyfriend."

"Yeah," Hanna said, nodding stiffly.

"I'm sorry," Melodie said. Sympathy made her look ten years younger. Maybe the ICU and all its bitterness had made her seem older and meaner than she actually was. Perhaps that explained a lot about Worth, too. "I know it's hard, but he'll be alright. I mean, after an accident like that, he's not going to just get up tomorrow and be fine. But his vitals are much better today, which is a good sign."

"Thank you," Hanna said, sighing out a relieved breath at her sincere honesty. She patted his shoulder, threw the trash away and then went to the door.

"You can stay here if you want to sleep for a bit. I'll have Katerina come get you at eight for the next visiting hour," she offered, but Hanna just shook his head and left. She went one way and Hanna went back to the vending machine. He sat next to it for a while before standing up and walking back into the waiting room. The same people from earlier in the day were there, so Hanna did his best to not look at them. He didn't want to wonder about who they were there to see; what had happened to that person. Instead, Hanna watched the television. It was the History channel. Something about aliens, the pyramids. Hanna lost track after a while, but at least the rest of his waiting went a bit faster than the last time.

When it was eight on the dot, Hanna got up with the others and left.

Signing the clipboard, Hanna went towards Alex's room, only to find that there were two nurses still inside. He stopped in the doorway, finding it hard to breathe for a moment, thinking the worst, until the one woman in pink scrubs stepped aside. Alex was sitting up in bed, looking like utter shit, but at least he was awake and _alive_ and when he saw Hanna, he smiled, even though it probably hurt all the cuts and bruises on his face to do so. It was such a relief to see him that Hanna didn't care about the nurses or the social implications or anything, just getting across the room and putting his arms around Alex at that second.

That was all that mattered.

"Hey," Alex said, and even though he sounded weak and thirsty, it was still Alex. _His _Alex. He put his uninjured arm around Hanna, pulling him closer. And that gesture, the familiar brush of stubble against his cheek, the steady warmth returning to Alex's skin, let Hanna knew everything would be alright.

"Hey," Hanna finally managed to get out, loosening the embrace in fear that he was unintentionally hurting Alex. The nurses at least had the sense to leave, so the gentle kiss they exchanged was a quiet, private affair. Hanna felt all of his stress and anxiety fall off him in that moment, like he had dropped a weighted vest from his body. It felt good and right to have Alex back with him like this again.

"Sorry," Alex said, after they parted, and he looked kind of embarrassed when he added: "My breath is probably awful…" And Hanna didn't know why, but for some reason that made him laugh. It wasn't just a chuckle, it was a full out laugh that had him holding his sides and shaking with mirth for a solid five minutes. "That bad, huh?" Alex asked, and it had Hanna laughing again. Maybe he was just hysterical, overcome with relief that Alex was really alright, Hanna wasn't sure. But it felt good to have Alex upright and talking again instead of lying there, unmoving and sickly looking with his too-small hands all bruised and cold.

"No, no…" Hanna said, shaking his head as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He wiped at the corners of his eyes and continued: "I'm just…happy to have you back…"

"You know me… I wasn't going anywhere," he replied and his smile was kind of tired but _there_. Hanna rubbed at his eyes again to try and keep from crying, but he was at least happy while he did it. "Hey…are you okay?" Alex touched his arm gently when he asked and Hanna sniffed to suck it up.

"I'm supposed to be asking you that…" Hanna mumbled weakly.

"I'm on really good painkillers right now, so I'm pretty okay…" Alex said and when Hanna looked at him, he could see the dilation to his pupils and the loopy sort of way he held his head that proved it. His eyes narrowed a bit and the tilt to his head became a bit more pronounce as he asked: "But are you? Hanna...did you sleep at all?"

"A little," Hanna replied, curling his fingers around Alex's.

"Hanna...you have to take care of yourself..." Alex said, sounding like his usual self despite the drugs and his injuries.

"How was I supposed to sleep...after what happened...?" Hanna whispered, biting his lip because it sounded accusatory when he didn't want it to be. "I thought...I thought you were going to die..." Alex's hand squeezed Hanna's gently.

"It's alright," Alex said, and leaned a bit closer. He kissed Hanna's cheek, then jaw, chin, lips, all with the lightest of breaths against Hanna's skin that chased away all the fear and uncertainty he had harbored up until that moment. Hanna was so relieved to find that Alex hadn't lost that ability to make everything feel so sure.

Alex said it was going to be okay.

So it was going to be okay.

**pqpq**

**pqpq**

Hanna was relieved.

It was only another day in the ICU before Alex was transferred downstairs to a regular hospital room. Even though Alex had to share a small room with another patient—who mostly slept, when he wasn't watching reruns of _Cake Boss_ on TLC—and the rain kept up without pause, Hanna liked it much better than the ICU. There were no restrictions on visiting hours or number of visitors, so Hanna was able to stay as long as he wanted. Plus, he didn't have nosy nurses working for Worth who could spy on him, which was always a bonus.

However, the new room situation was not welcomed for Alex, who had been taken off the good pain medication and given some less potent version of the same stuff on the new floor. To make matters worse, the nurses rationed the weak stuff like gold and only came around once or twice in a twenty-four hour period to relieve Alex of his lingering pain. In the hours that stretched between their visits with morphine, Alex lay on his side and clenched at Hanna's fingers in fitful slumber.

"You don't have to stay," Alex said, every day around lunch time, when the pain became especially bad. He always attempted to hide it with some sort of excuse about not wanting Hanna to be bored or giving Hanna some kind of gentle lecture about proper eating habits and rest. But Hanna wasn't fooled in the slightest and remained steadfast by his side; Alex underestimated what could be said with just his eyes.

"You couldn't keep me away if you tried," Hanna replied, and held Alex's hand through the worst of it, debating on whether or not he should talk about what he had confessed before. He wanted nothing more than to tell Alex that he loved him, but the time seemed wrong somehow. With Alex trying to deal with the pain and recover enough strength to heal, Hanna felt like telling him would be laying another hurdle down for him to jump over, and that seemed like too much. So, Hanna kept those emotions to himself and simply held Alex's hand when he needed it, wondering if he would ever find the right time to say it again.

He hoped he would.

When the pain wasn't so bad and Alex could stay awake without cringing his way through a conversation, Hanna caught him up on all the things he had missed, which mostly concerned Worth-who Alex could not believe was a doctor of all things and worked in the Intensive Care Unit of all places, because it involved taking care of people and that just did not seem to be Worth's style at all-and Conrad's budding sort-of romance. And Lamont's girlfriend, who happened to be the supposed hooker from the bar they had been in that one night to see that one show where Hanna got too drunk and spent the night at Alex's house.

"Wait. What?" Alex asked, either slow from the pain medication that had finally been administered or the fact that he was in complete shock about the entire thing.

"Yeah, that's how I felt," Hanna replied, and told the story about the incident: Conrad had driven him back to Worth's the previous night and there they discovered Lamont and Adelaide on the couch, making out like high school kids under the bleachers at a football game. As if that wasn't disturbing enough, her bouncer friends from that night were there with their backs to the couple, playing Xbox and eating nachos of all things. "You should have seen Conrad's face. I thought he was going to _die_."

"I can't believe I missed this…" Alex said, and seemed quite disappointed to have not been present when Conrad nearly shat himself in fear and disbelief.

"It was pretty fantastic, I'm not going to lie," Hanna answered and had to describe, in detail, the entire scene. Adelaide, who actually looked like less of a hooker wearing pants and flats, had removed herself long enough from Lamont's pelvis to tease Conrad mercilessly about being too shy to fuck her while her two bouncer friends—still pale and vampire-like, but much less imposing in casual clothing and covered in cheese, Hanna assured him—killed other people ruthlessly in Call of Duty. When everyone had finished poking fun at Conrad, they all sat down and had a drink or five together before continuing to embarrass the crap out of their bespectacled friend. Then, Worth came home at about three in the morning, dragged Conrad into the bedroom, and fucked him so loudly that everyone felt awkward enough to leave.

"I can't believe I missed this…" Alex said again, but he was smiling so Hanna knew he didn't mind the retelling, so long as he was up to speed with everything.

"I could have missed that last part," Hanna replied, and made a face. The walls were thin and Conrad didn't know how loud he could be, or maybe he did and deliberately shouted to make Hanna feel weird as a payback for laughing at him with everyone else.

The third day after Alex had been moved downstairs, Toni and Veser came to visit. They brought flowers and wine—and when they realized that wine wasn't allowed in a hospital, took it home with them so it didn't go to waste—and, of course, stories. Toni talked about moving and her scripts and the make-up crew—she was pissed because they wanted to take the blue out of her hair completely and give her bangs of all things, which must have been traumatic for a girl, Hanna supposed, but wasn't really sure—almost non-stop. Veser interjected every now and then with something inappropriate while he ate the hospital food Alex refused to touch that night. He went on about the pudding when Toni needed a breath and Alex replied with something about how plastic food had to be bad for the digestive track. Veser's argument was that beggars couldn't be choosers and he nearly mauled Alex's food tray to get the last few scraps of the meal. Hanna had a feeling he was high and had the munchies, but wasn't going to say anything. It just made the visit more fun, he thought. Their company was vibrant and excitable as always, which Hanna could tell cheered Alex up a little, despite his earlier hesitation about seeing anyone with his "train wreck" of a face.

{"The doctor said it's going to scar a little…" Alex had told Hanna, pointing along his bruised left cheek, where a row of stitches stretched in a curved line toward his ear. He seemed very apprehensive about this, until Hanna mentioned something about it being ruggedly sexy. It made Alex clutch at his injured ribs as he laughed for the first time since the accident.}

At the end of the week, Alex was discharged with a prescription for Vicodin and strict orders for almost constant bed rest. Alex was happy to get out of the hospital—because it turned out that, as his roommate improved, he developed a fondness for daytime television soaps and _The Real Housewives of New Jersey, _which had Alex practically clawing his own eyes out every day—and Hanna felt relieved that he could finally go home. Though the thought was generous, Hanna couldn't bear to spend another night on Worth's tortuously uncomfortable couch, alternating between listening to Worth and Conrad fucking on one side of the apartment and Lamont and Adelaide fucking on the other.

"Home sweet home," Hanna declared, when they finally arrived. He had only been back one time since Alex had been in the hospital and that was the afternoon prior, when Conrad had driven him back to go pick up his car. Hanna tried to straighten up a bit, but he had been so anxious to return to Portland that he hadn't done a good job. The place was disorderly and there were dishes getting crusty in the sink and mold in the coffee filter and the herbs in the Chia Pet were wilting. Alex stood in the middle of the destroyed living room with his left arm in a sling and the bruises fading to yellow on his forehead, looking at the chaos closely. When Hanna went up to him to apologize, Alex put his uninjured arm around his shoulders and said fondly:

"It's good to be home."

**pqpq**

The next few weeks were the hardest Hanna had ever experienced.

When Alex was released from the hospital, Hanna had thought things would get easier: not having to see his boyfriend in the hospital, no longer having to sleep on Worth's uncomfortable couch, finally not sharing uncomfortable conversations with Lamont and Conrad every time they were in the same room together, etc. But when Alex finally came home, Hanna saw how a lot of things he had taken for granted were suddenly on his shoulders. It was Hanna's turn to take care of Alex, who was still in near-constant pain because of the bruises to his torso and spine. His back was of most concern to the doctors, who told Hanna that Alex was to do as little as possible until they healed, which encompassed everything from walking to making a cup of coffee. But Hanna was more worried about Alex's wrist, as he still hadn't seen Alex move the splinted limb willingly since he had woken up. Between his own observations and the doctors' orders, it was difficult for Hanna to leave him alone all day, constantly wondering—while he was shelving books or doing some other menial task—that Alex might need him or had fallen down or some other horrible equivalent. It usually led Hanna to dashing home on his breaks like a madman to make sure Alex was alright.

{Which he usually was, but still, that didn't stop Hanna from doing it twice a day, every day, in constant fear.}

But the worst part about the entire situation was something that Hanna hadn't thought of: Alex was a horrible patient.

"Didn't the doctor say something about staying in bed? All the time?" Hanna asked, one night when he had come home from work and began the process of making dinner. Or trying to make dinner. Alex lurked just outside of the kitchen, sitting in one of the hard backed chairs next to the small table; he was watching Hanna's every motion, as if making sure he didn't make a mess. After all, when they had come home from the hospital, it had taken all of Hanna's strength to keep Alex from going into the kitchen and scrubbing the mess that had been left over from his attempts at spaghetti.

"I don't recall that he said _all the time_," Alex said, and then added: "You have the heat up too high."

"I recall that he did," Hanna replied, lowering the heat like he instructed.

"Are you going to tell on me?" Alex asked, and his smile was daring.

"I might," Hanna said.

"Put more butter in the pan," Alex said, not rising to Hanna's half-threat.

"Go back to bed and I will," Hanna replied.

"I've been in bed all day," Alex answered, and he made a pained face. "I'm so bored."

"You could watch TV," Hanna suggested.

"There's nothing on TV during the day," Alex said and then added: "And I'm not watching any more of that housewives show. No way."

"Read a book," Hanna replied.

"I've read all my books," Alex countered childishly. "Unless you'd let me read _your_ book."

"Fat chance," Hanna replied, grinning at Alex's attempts to guilt him into such a thing.

"There's nothing to do..."

"You shouldn't be doing anything. You should be sleeping"

"Hannaaa…"

"No, really, you should. That's the best thing."

"I'm not an invalid, Hanna."

The look Alex gave him was enough for Hanna to feel badly for a moment.

"I'm just saying…the more you rest, the sooner you can get up and not be bored anymore," Hanna informed him. He went into the fridge and grabbed the butter. When he closed the door, Hanna saw Alex shaking his head as if he disagreed, but had no further argument. He didn't get up and go back to bed, either, but helped Hanna cook a rather decent meal from his chair.

"I'm sorry," Alex said after dinner, when Hanna wouldn't let him help with the dishes. He was back in the chair again with a tired, defeated sort of air about him. The accident had made him look smaller somehow. Maybe it was the way his shoulders slumped as if too exhausted to be broad and straight anymore. The sling and brace made his arm appear weak and sickly. Vulnerable: that was the word that came to mind after some thought. It made Hanna tread gently, as if he didn't want to break the last little bit of Alex that kept him upright.

"For what?" Hanna asked.

"For earlier," Alex replied and gave him a small shrug with his right shoulder. "I just feel really useless right now. The boredom isn't helping anything."

"You're not useless," Hanna answered, and shut off the faucet, abandoning the dishes because Alex was more important than the chore. He wiped his hands on the dish towel, keeping his gaze level with Alex's as he added: "You're hurt and that's not your fault. You just have to rest until you're better."

"But I can't _do_ anything," Alex said, and Hanna could tell that this had been gnawing at him for a while now. "I mean, I can't help you wash dishes or fold laundry or... make myself a cup of coffee. And…you won't even let me take a shower if you're not home... This whole thing is just ridiculous. I didn't lose a kidney or have brain surgery or anything like that. I can take care of a few things, you know? I'm _fine_." His tone was nothing short of frustrated, which was something that Hanna had never heard before. There was too much self-hate in his voice, spurred by the condition that was the fault of a teenager who thought driving and texting was an awesome idea. Alex was beating himself up over something that was out of his control; it hurt Hanna to hear the blame and abhorrence for his inability to do anything for himself. It drove Hanna to go to him, kneel down in front of Alex to hold his hand and say:

"I know this sucks. I know, I really do, because…I know that you've taken care of yourself for a long time and this is weird because it's someone else taking care of you for once, but… just bear it another few days, okay? Just another few days and then you can start doing things again." Hanna dropped his gaze, bringing Alex's hand to his cheek as he closed his eyes. Under the lids, his eyes felt hot and his chest hurt as he continued softly, honestly: "I'm sorry to ask you to do this, but I thought…I thought you were going to die and…I…I was really scared of that, Alex…I mean, really, really scared of that…and now that I know you're okay, I just want you to get better. The fastest way to get better is to let me take care of you." Hanna sniffed and then he laughed quietly. "I know… I kind of suck at doing it, but I'm trying."

"You don't suck at it, Hanna," Alex said, his old tone replacing the self-loathing with nothing but his usual kindness. His thumb moved over Hanna's cheek to assure him of those words. The gesture was familiar. It made Hanna feel a bit better.

"I can't cook," Hanna said, and he laughed again because he really couldn't. It was the first night that he had made something even remotely edible, though Alex had been a soldier through all of it and ate the over-cooked, over-salted, over-marinated everything without complaint.

"You're learning," Alex replied. "Don't be hard on yourself." He let out a soft sigh, not able to regularly do so with his ribs in their state. "I'm sorry I brought all this up, especially when you're working so hard to take care of me…on top of all those extra shifts, too…" Alex looked nothing but guilty when Hanna glanced up at him, because he was undoubtedly thinking of all the extra hours that Ples had given him to make up for the week he had been up at the hospital. Hanna had a feeling Mr. Tibenoch was trying to help Hanna make a bit of extra money to take care of Alex while he was injured and out of work. He sent Hanna home with expensive tea bags and bitter smelling salves that Ples claimed were organic and helped with aches and pains. It was nice of him and Hanna didn't mind the extra work, though it did keep him away from Alex more than he liked.

"It's okay. With my cooking skills and the fact that I didn't do the laundry yet…we're even," Hanna replied, turning his cheek to kiss Alex's palm. He didn't want Alex to worry about anything: chores, work, and especially money. That was the reason why Hanna hid all of the bills under the couch and looked at them only when his boyfriend was asleep at night. Stretching his single paycheck to make ends meet was hard, especially with his old apartment adding an extra expense. But before Hanna made any decision about it, he wanted to talk to Alex. And that was something that Hanna wanted to talk about when he was better.

In the meantime, the less he knew, the better.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Alex said and he was smiling in the way that Hanna adored, which made everything feel alright. Hanna grinned, feeling like it had been ages since he had done so.

"I'm counting on it."

**pqpq**

Hanna felt bad about asking Alex to commit himself to bed and rest, so he did the one thing he said he wasn't going to ever do:

He let Alex read his novel.

The morning before he left for work, Hanna put his laptop on the bed next to Alex and told him that, so long as he took it easy, he was allowed to read the untitled novel and give him feedback on it. Alex looked like a kid who had been given a gift card to a candy store and even pinkie swore that he would follow Hanna's conditions. All that day, Hanna fidgeted as he thought about Alex reading his story. What would he think? What part would he be at by now? Would he like it? Hate it? Enjoy the characters? Maybe he would think it was flat? A flop? Somehow strangely amazing? Hanna didn't know and wanted to call, but the check-out lines seemed never-ending and he couldn't break away to do so.

When he went home for lunch, Hanna found that Alex was still in bed, laptop propped up on his knees, staring at the screen with an intent expression on his face. It took him at least five minutes to realize Hanna had returned before he immediately launched into talking about Hanna's book and the intricate plot with the witty tone and the dynamic characters. It was probably the most Hanna had ever heard Alex say in one sitting, which may have been the result of the medication or the fact that he honestly fell as in love with the story as he claimed.

"Why haven't you sent this anywhere yet?" Alex asked, once it sounded like he was running out of air from all his praises. He hadn't even taken a bite of the sandwich Hanna had made him for lunch.

"I dunno…I'm still working on it and I don't like the main character's name and it doesn't have a title, so…" Hanna mumbled, cheeks hot as he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"You should name him after yourself," Alex said. "I hear your voice so clearly through him."

"That's really self-centered though," Hanna pointed out.

"Maybe, but I think _Hanna_ would fit him perfectly," Alex continued, snacking on one of Hanna's sea-salt chips.

"But Hanna's not a boy's name," Hanna answered dully, repeating what he had heard from near infancy when people found out his name. Always the same line, without question, without fail.

"Hey, that's a good title," Alex said and the moment he did, Hanna couldn't say anything because it kind of _was_. "I mean, if I saw a book with that title, I would want to read it."

"But what if people think it's about a transvestite or something?" Hanna asked, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought of people not wanting to read his book because of that theme. Or people wanting to read it _because_ of that, only to be disappointed that there were no transvestites in it.

"Write a really witty summary for the back," Alex suggested, and nabbed another chip from Hanna's plate. "Or add a subtitle for it so that people can distinguish it's a paranormal comedy and not something to be taken seriously."

With all those good ideas in his head, Hanna returned to work with a dazed smile. It was like he went on autopilot for the rest of the day, thinking of titles and replacing names with new ones and making things "witty" and awesome like Alex suggested. That night, he had to practically wrestle his computer away from Alex to write, for the compulsion to get something on paper was so strong that Hanna could barely contain it. And it was awkward having someone reading over his shoulder, but kind of endearing, too.

"Hey, Hanna," Alex began, that night when they were settling down to go to sleep. He had just taken a Vicodin, so his voice sounded light and airy when he spoke.

"Hmm?" was Hanna's reply as he sat on the edge of the bed to take off his socks.

"The zombie…in your story," Alex said, yawned, and then continued: "Does he ever find out his name?"

"I can't tell you that," Hanna answered, grinning as he got into bed.

"Oh," was Alex's far off reply. His eyes were already closed. "I guess that makes sense…"

"Do you like his character?" Hanna asked, taking off his glasses. As he was setting them on the nightstand and turning out the lamp, Alex replied:

"Yeah…" It came out like a sigh, even softer when he said: "But...I don't know if…I want him to remember or not…"

"Why's that?" Hanna asked, pulling the blanket over them.

"Because it would be sad…either way, wouldn't it? If he remembered his past and left the detective…or if he never found out about anything…" Alex said and Hanna knew he was smiling in the dark. "That sounds dumb, huh? Drugs make me...sentimental."

Hanna smiled too and kissed him.

"Don't worry. It has a happy ending."

**pqpq**

Alex healed slowly and steadily over the next few weeks.

His body still hurt after the painkillers ran out, Hanna knew, but Alex was a trooper and pushed his way through it. Most days, Hanna would find that Alex had done light chores around the house, maybe even worked for a few hours on the book he had been in the process of translating before the accident. But some days, Hanna came home and found Alex still in bed, too miserable and aching to get up or eat or do anything at all. The bruises were healing and the stitches had come out, but there was still something wrong.

"What did the doctor say about your wrist?" Hanna asked, after one of Alex's follow up appointments with the local doctor. Alex looked at him and then down at his hand, like he was considering the question.

"Well, she said I might have to go to physical therapy for a while," Alex said, not seeming happy about this, whether because he knew it was going to hurt or because he knew it would be expensive.

"What's…wrong?" Hanna asked, because he had been worrying about the injury since the accident. There was something about the way that Alex continuously held it that bothered him.

"Dunno," Alex said and he gave his one-shouldered shrug again. The left didn't move, like it couldn't make the motion. Hanna suddenly felt a rush of hate for the driver of the other vehicle. If he hadn't been texting, he wouldn't have run the red light. If he hadn't run the red light, he wouldn't have hit Alex, crushing his car so hard into the guardrail that there was nothing but the fender and trunk left. What if the kid—who walked away from the accident with nothing but a broken leg and an angry parent—had crippled Alex for life? What kind of text message was that important?

None. That was the answer.

"Hanna, I'll be alright," Alex said, as if knowing where Hanna's thoughts had ventured. After that, they didn't talk about it for a while. Hanna still thought about it, though, every night when he lay beside the other man. Sometimes, when Alex was so deep asleep, Hanna would run his fingers over the hard brace around his wrist and say prayers to Gods he didn't really believe in. He begged silently, wordlessly to these beings that Alex would heal completely, because he just couldn't bear his lover being punished in such a way.

It just wouldn't be fair.

**pqpq**

The bills got paid when Alex submitted his final translated manuscript to the publisher.

"You should have shown these to me ages ago…" Alex said, sitting at the table with the stack of bills from under the couch. He leaned his chin against the back of his hand as he typed away on a calculator and somehow magically got things to balance in both of their checkbooks. It was that night that Hanna felt it was alright to sit down with him and talk about his apartment.

"I think, you know, that is…I mean, maybe I shouldn't be there anymore…" Hanna admitted, stirring creamer into his coffee. He didn't want to be forceful in any of it, because Alex had been nice enough to make room for him, but had not officially asked him to move in. Maybe he had been waiting or wanting to let Hanna keep his independence in that way. Whatever the case may have been, Hanna did not want to impose in case he overstepped a line he hadn't seen.

"If you want to keep it, to have a place to call your own, then you should," Alex said, putting his pen down, "but you have this place, too, with me." He smiled even though he was as serious as Hanna had ever seen him. "Unless I'm too hard to live with."

"You're not hard to live with," Hanna said, shaking his head with his own smile. "_I'm_ hard to live with."

"No, you're really not," Alex replied. It was almost midnight and it smelled like paper and ink and vanilla when he asked: "So do you want to move in? For real?" And Hanna should have felt afraid to give up his space, his previously independent way of life. But he wasn't at all. In fact it would be a relief to say goodbye to that place, that part of his life that seemed so distant and foreign now. In truth, it felt nothing but good and right to hold Alex's hand and without a thought, simply say:

"Yes."

**pqpq**

Alex went to physical therapy the following week.

In between work and moving out of his apartment and driving Alex to his therapy sessions, Hanna felt exhausted. By Thursday, Alex was two sessions into therapy and didn't want to talk about it. Hanna had a fight with Ms. Blaney that day about the security deposit and the rent that she wanted him to pay for a month when he wouldn't even be living there any more. It made both of them moody and depressed that night. Neither of them wanted to cook or eat or do much of anything, so they went to bed early instead. Even though he was out the moment he hit the pillow and thought that he could sleep for a million years without waking up for anything, Hanna woke up with a jolt in the middle of the night. He didn't know why, but his heart was racing, like he had just run a mile and he felt _scared_ for some reason. Alex wasn't beside him in bed. At first, he didn't know what had woken him and why he felt so panicked, but then he heard it: a low, painful keen. It took Hanna a moment to comprehend that it was the sound of quiet sobbing. Disoriented, Hanna got up out of bed and followed the sound, knowing that it had to be Alex while at the same time unable to believe that it was coming from him. Of all people, Hanna could never imagine Alex crying like that, or at all, for that matter. But Hanna found him in the kitchen, sitting in the dark with his knees to his chest.

His low, agonized sob died down to nothing but breath after a moment.

"Go… back to bed, Hanna," Alex said, his voice thin and wavering. It sounded like he had been crying for a while, but Hanna didn't turn on the light to confirm this.

"Alex…what's wrong?" Hanna asked quietly, kneeling down next to him. He could feel Alex shaking; hear him straining for breath. When he didn't receive an answer, Hanna moved his arm comfortingly around Alex's shoulders and held him against his chest. Almost immediately, Alex folded up into him and he felt smaller than Hanna had ever thought possible. All Hanna could do was hold onto him and rub his back, but not much more than that. Some time later, when he relaxed a bit, Hanna discovered that Alex had taken all the frozen food out of the fridge to wrap around his left arm.

"I…didn't want…to wake you up…" Alex murmured, after admitting to the pain that had been lingering all week, but had finally become too much to bear. Everything from the tips of his fingers to his neck was nothing short of fiery pinpricks of agony, but when Hanna said they should go to the hospital, Alex refused. More in control of himself, Alex put the food back in the freezer, took too many Tylenol PMs to be healthy, and went back to bed. Hanna tried to help, applying some muscle rub to his arm and shoulder to ease the pain, which seemed to help, but not by much.

"You should have told me," Hanna said, holding onto him in the dark, like his arms could keep the pain at bay.

"You have too much to worry about…" Alex replied.

"It doesn't matter. You should _always_ tell me things like this," Hanna insisted. Alex gave a weak apology, and soon he fell asleep. Hanna, however, was wide awake and nervous, his heart refusing to slow down and take a break. It was nearly three in the morning by the time Hanna sat up and came to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to sleep for a while. So he went out into the living room and found his cell phone. He found a name at the end of his small list of an address book and dialed.

"Wha'th' fuck ya want?" were the first words out of Worth's mouth when he answered the phone.

"I...just thought I'd call...to see how things are going..." Hanna lied weakly. He could almost see Worth rolling his eyes as he lit a cigarette and made that aggravated motion with his hand that basically said _you're so full of shit_.

"We ain't friends're we? Callin' ta gossip'n shit?" Worth replied.

"Yeah, you're right," Hanna said and sighed, putting his head into his hand. "I really called because...I've got to ask you something."

"Yer loverboy dyin'?" he asked and Hanna flinched away from the phone as if Worth had slapped him.

"No, at least I hope not..." Hanna murmured, picking at the tassel on the old throw blanket across his knees.

"So dramatic, ain't ya?" Worth said, and Hanna heard him inhale on his cigarette. He wondered if Conrad was there or if Worth was alone, drinking in his bedroom while Lamont fucked his too-pretty girlfriend who was actually studying something important in school. What it was escaped Hanna at the moment, but it had sounded impressive when she had told him in between shots of cheap vodka. The memory was disjointed and fuzzy. Maybe Hanna had been imagining it. He wasn't sure. What he did know was that he had taken too long of a silence because Worth huffed out a breath and Hanna heard him slam a glass down on a nearby table as he growled into the receiver: "If ya ain't gonna talk, don't call." And he hung up right there, leaving Hanna sitting on the couch in the dark in the middle of the night with nothing but the dial tone in his ear. After what felt like eternity, he managed to call Worth back. It took three tries for him to answer with a jumbled mess of swears.

"There's something wrong with his arm," Hanna said, ignoring the colorful phrases. "Something really wrong." Without waiting for Worth to ask what the symptoms were, Hanna told him. Everything from his own observations to the description Alex had given him earlier. And Worth actually listened, maybe even pondered for a minute as he smoked and threw back a slosh of whiskey before replying with:

"Paresthesia."

Hanna wasn't sure if it was his accent or if the word was just complicated, but he didn't understand. Worth eventually dumbed it down for him so that he could get it: nerve damage. Under pressure, nerves, which were fragile to begin with, could be damaged, severed, and killed. The pain, numbness, and everything in between was known as Paresthesia. Apparently it was just a general term, because there were all kinds of conditions and symptoms where paresthesia was one of the major causes.

"Can it...be fixed?" Hanna asked.

"Depends on th'nerve an'where it is," Worth replied, "an'how bad it is."

"Oh," Hanna said. And felt kind of hollow as he said: "Thanks" before hanging up. It took him a long time to get up from the couch and go into the bedroom, where he sat in bed next to Alex and wanted to cry, but didn't. Alex was always his rock, and now it was time for Hanna to be his.

**pqpq**

Tests were run.

Worth was right about the damage. Apparently the physical therapy had been good for the muscle, but bad for the nerve. It had been trying to heal when the forced motion had ripped it, causing intermittent pain and numbness. Because of that, a surgery was scheduled for the following month in order to repair the injury. They said that if it was successful, he would make an near complete recovery, which meant he would live with occasional weakness and numbness, though not often enough to be troublesome. However there was always the possibility of something going wrong, which could result in paralysis, more pain and a lifetime of surgeries. When given the options, Alex had selected the surgery despite its risks. When they returned home from Portland, Alex told Hanna why he had done that.

"I figure...I have to at least try. I can't live my life with this pain, always wondering if the surgery would have fixed it," Alex said. Hanna could tell he was still afraid: afraid of being maimed and crippled, unable to lift or hold anything without difficulty. It was an artists' worst nightmare, losing a hand. Painters, writers, cooks: all relied on the dexterity of two hands and ten fingers. Hanna didn't want to think about the one thing Alex loved to do suddenly being ripped away from him and he was sure that Alex was trying not to think about the exact same thing.

"I think...you'll be alright," Hanna replied, moved closer to Alex on the couch, and kissed him reassuringly. That was all he could do at that moment in all the uncertainty with the bills piling up and the fear of losing Alex to all the depression and pain he was trying so hard to fight. All Hanna could really do was show Alex that he was there and not going to leave, no matter what.

"Me too," Alex said, always the optimist, though Hanna could see a shadow of doubt already lurking behind his eyes. Hanna knew then that they both had their limits. He couldn't promise Alex that he would get better or not feel any pain anymore, just as he couldn't fly to the moon or turn water to gold. But Hanna could promise one thing, and one thing only.

"Just know, that no matter what happens, I'll be here," Hanna replied. The words came easily, without hesitation, with nothing but clear, honest sincerity. Hanna then realized that he had come far from the stuttering, jittery mess he had been and that was all because of Alex. It was Alex who had given him so much and asked for so little; who Hanna wanted to give the entire world and the moon and the stars to. But because he couldn't do that and he couldn't cook or do laundry or grow rosemary properly, Hanna had to settle for the most meaningful words in his expansive vocabulary:

"I love you."

And Alex smiled a smile filled with amber and honey and sunshine as he said simply:

"I know."

"How?" Hanna asked, dumbfounded and frozen in that gaze that still had that amazing ability to hold him captivated.

"I just know," Alex said, and swept his thumb along Hanna's jaw, over his lips and softly down his throat. The gentle caress left Hanna aching for more touch, missing that contact over the weeks of Alex's recovery.

"How?" Hanna asked again, blushing as he added: "I've...never said it before..."

"You didn't have to," Alex replied, and kissed him with more meaning than Hanna ever thought possible. He knew how Alex felt without him having to say a word, because Hanna could feel it in him: that warm, cozy nook that had been created the moment they first began. And it was just expanding with warmth and happiness and overflowing with so many good things of which Hanna could not get enough. It was right and perfect and quietly impressive instead of blatantly showy. It was them, in their place with their things and their stories and their lives together.

And that was all coffee and sugar and spices and _love_ in a nutshell.

"I wanted to," Hanna said, because he did; because words mattered to writers more than anything sometimes. He moved forward; put his arms around Alex's neck and held him. "I wanted to say I love you. That I'm _in_ love with you. I just wanted to say it out loud, because...I almost didn't get to say it. And I was afraid that you wouldn't ever know..."

"I worried about the same thing," Alex replied, and his words were soft against Hanna's ear. There was something so raw in the way he whispered honestly: "I was scared that I would die and you wouldn't know how I really felt."

"Yeah?" Hanna asked. He and Alex sharing that fear comforted him somewhat. It also made that moment more important, because they were both there and alive and able to say it, finally.

"Yeah," Alex said, and his arms secured themselves around Hanna's waist. Then he said the words that Hanna should have understood in every action, every touch, every kiss, but only found himself completely able to comprehend in that moment when he said: "I love you, Hanna." And it might have taken a long time to fully allow that fact to sink in, but when it did, it was nothing short of wonderful.

They didn't think about the surgery or the future or the bills for the rest of the night.

All they did was kiss for the longest time, until Alex moved back a bit, lips caressing along Hanna's jaw, down his neck. The fingers of his uninjured hand slid under Hanna's shirt, traveling over the familiar skin and leaving trails of heat in their wake. Hanna's body responded to Alex's touch, moving like it was supposed to with the stimulus, reveling in the feeling of being caressed and loved and kissed so fully. But after a moment, he forced his eyes open and stilled Alex's hand, because going further wasn't possible.

"Why?" Alex asked, and there was a bit of pout in the strained question as his tongue flirted unfairly with Hanna's ear.

"You're still recovering...we can't..." Hanna replied weakly, holding Alex's head in place, unable to push him away.

"We can," Alex insisted, sliding both his injured and uninjured palms over Hanna's thighs. "You can't just start all this and not finish it..." It took a bit more convincing before Hanna agreed to go to bed with Alex. The taller man laid down against the pillows, allowing Hanna to take the lead in things from there and he did. He slowly took off each article of clothing, methodically kissed every bruise and scar on Alex's still-healing body. Then, Hanna gave where he needed to give and withheld when he knew he should not be so generous. It was new for both of them to have Hanna on top, and the redhead found it a bit stressful at first—concerned that he was hurting Alex more than he was letting on—but then the whole thing became quite enjoyable for the both of them by the end. Alex held on to his shoulders the entire time, moving when he could and clenching when he couldn't. There were hot, whispered words of encouragement and low, breathy pleas for more, harder, _faster_. Hanna gripped at the pillow as Alex scrabbled for some sort of hold against his back. It was raining outside and they were so _alive_ in that moment.

And at the brink of completion, Hanna felt infinite.

He kissed Alex until he fell asleep, leaving Hanna to lie there in the wrinkled sheets that smelled like cloves and sex and aftershave. He listened to the rain and the hum of pleasure in his ears and the soft inhales, exhales of Alex's breathing. They were scared and happy and in love and there were boxes upon boxes of Hanna's things everywhere. He had to go to work in the morning and they were almost out of coffee and there were too many bills on the table.

But it was perfect in its own way of being imperfect that Hanna wouldn't have it any other way.

**pqpq**

Yeah, a little late, but finally here. It was a little emotional for me to write, because I struggle with Paresthesia on a daily basis with my CTS flare-ups. They're so bad that I'm practically crippled on some days. What you read in the text might seem over dramatic and out of character, but I did that one night after I tried the exercises the doctors suggested I do. My mom thought I was dying because I thought I was dying, so I kept telling her I was. And when she realized I wasn't, she got pissed because the green beans were all unfrozen 0_0

Anyway, despite all of that drama, I hope you enjoyed, because I certainly did! I have the epilogue ready to go by the end of the month which will wrap everything up~!

Dhampir72


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